


Strawberry-Infused Whiskey Shots

by hayffietrash



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:20:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 31,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayffietrash/pseuds/hayffietrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Hayffie one-shots written by me! I hope you enjoy them as much as I love to write them! ^^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prettiest Shade of Blue

_Inspired by my parents and a Facebook post I read._

* * *

 

It has been a while since the war.

Seven years to be exact. Seven years since they won. Seven years since he came home.

 

No this isn't a story about how Effie came home to him. It's a story about how he unknowingly cheated on Effie.

 

* * *

 

It has been a while since she moved to Twelve.

She came back with Peeta five years ago.

She gave him so much in these five years. More than what he could ever wish for.

A place to call home. A family he thought he'd never have. A child. A little Effie he'd never thought he could love more than life.

 

Today was their anniversary. Not that he remember but Effie had always made it an important occasion through these few years that he couldn’t not remember. Not to mention that she had headed out early today to grab some groceries for dinner. It wasn’t any big celebration but she would always cook a special meal each year.

 

This year was their fifth year together. This year he thought he should do something different too. He left their daughter in the care of Peeta before heading out to grab a gift for her. A necklace with their initials carved on. Sapphire blue. Just like her eyes.

* * *

 

He hurried across the street into the jewelry store to avoid bumping into Effie on the way. He stood at the counter looking at all the choices across the display. The old her would have loved to be in a shop like this. Fancy accessories.

But he wanted something simple. Something special.

There in midst of hundreds of different pendants, one caught his eye. It was perfect.

Blue sapphire encased in a beautifully carved silver cage. Through the cage, you could see the reflection having a mesmerizing effect within the blue stone. It almost looked like liquid sapphire within a glass shell.

He explained to the jeweler where and how he wanted the initials to be carved and the type of chain to go with the charm before settling on the seat near the window looking out on the street.

It is gonna take a while for the carving to be finished, he might as well get comfortable. Staring out onto the street.

* * *

 

That was when he saw her. This stunning woman standing by the side of the road back facing him.

She was gorgeous. Blond hair up in a bun. Fair skin. Plain white t-shirt. Dark blue leggings. Bags in one hand.

_Holyshit that body. Hey he is a guy right? No harm looking. This wasn’t cheating._

Even from afar and with her simple dress up, he could tell that she was hot.

Effie would have dug his eyes by now if she was here.

_Not like she should worry because no one can ever replace her. But that doesn’t forbid him from "admiring" the view, does it?_

He wondered where she was from. Surely he knew almost everyone in Twelve.

Maybe she was from somewhere else. Maybe she just moved here.

She was looking for something in her bag and struggling to keep her groceries in one hand. He wondered if anyone would go up to help her?

 

* * *

 

"Mr Abernathy, your necklace is done. Would you like to check it before I wrap it up?" The jeweler's voice brought his attention away from her.

"Yeah." He held the charm with so much care as he brought it up to eye level. Hands stroking over the newly carved E and H. Beautiful.

He got it wrapped in a small box with a matching ribbon before heading out of the store.

Maybe he should grab some buns from Peeta's before going home. _Effie liked them. They could have them for breakfast tomorrow._

 

He was almost reaching the bakery when he saw her again. The same woman who was by the side of the road. She just stepped out of the bakery when she lifted her head and strode in the opposite direction.

That was when he saw her face. Eyes blue. Sapphire blue.

_Fuck she was gorgeous. And the best thing? She was his._

 

How could he have not realised? The person who he has shared a bed with for the past five years. The person who he has spent almost one-third of his life with. The person who he shared a family with was the same person standing by the side of the road a while ago. The same person he thought he was cheating on.

 

He didn’t stop her. He watched her walk away towards their house. Quietly admiring. One hand stroking the box in his pocket. _What did he do to deserve her?_

 

The realisation made him feel guilty.

* * *

 

He got home to her cooking in the kitchen. Whatever she was cooking it smelled amazing. He set the buns on the kitchen counter as he sat down with his elbows on the table, hand on his head.

He let his eyes trail down her body.  _Blond hair up in a bun. Fair skin. Plain white t-shirt. Dark blue leggings. His._

He never felt more proud. The other time he felt like that was when their daughter was born about two years ago.

 

He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t noticed that she had turned around. Hand on her hip, looking at him.

 

"See something you like?" She stepped forward, hand stroking his hair.

He wrapped his arms around her middle, burying his face in her stomach. Taking in her scent. _She smelled like home._

"Sorry." He mumbled against her.

"What?" She pushed him slightly and brought his face up with her hands.

He looked up, taking in her blue eyes, her furrowed brows, small yet sharp nose and thin lips.

"I cheated on you today." He said with a serious tone.

"What?" She asked again. Frowning.

"It was a woman on the street. I saw her while I was out today. She was beautiful. Most beautiful human being I have ever seen. Blond hair up in a bun. Fair skin. Plain white t-shirt. Dark blue leggings." He paused for a while. Looking her in eyes. He continued, "I saw her again while I was walking back. Blue eyes. The prettiest shade of blue." Her eyes softened as the realisation dawned upon her.

"It was love at first sight then." She said. Clearly amused.

"It was." He replied slightly annoyed by her amusement.

"Are we breaking up now?"

"I guess so. I think I am going to marry her." Two can play this game.

"Oh really? I wish you two the happiest then. I should get back to my cooking." She turned away and got back to stirring whatever was in the pot.

 

* * *

 

 

He took out the box from his pocket and unwrapped it.

Snaking his arms around her neck, he clasped the necklace carefully. It was a good thing she had her hair up, it would be a disaster if the necklace got caught in her hair.

"I thought we broke up?" She teased.

"Yeah we did. Ex-girlfriend." The word made him cringe.

"What is this then? Parting gift?" She laughed.

"We are married now so I guess you can't be my girlfriend anymore. Can you?" She spun around so quickly they almost both tipped over the pot.

"Be serious now Haymitch." He steadied them. Her hands on his chest.

"I am. Unless you don’t want to." It didn’t occur to him to propose. _Although that wasn’t really a proposal._ But the idea just popped in his mind while he was watching her cook.

"That wasn’t even a proposal."

"Now you are asking too much sweetheart."

"I didn’t agree to this marriage. You were cheating. Remember?"

He tried to silence her with a kiss. But she pulled away. "You are not kissing your way out of a proposal Haymitch."

"I am." He continued and she gave up.

 

* * *

 

"I don’t know why I agreed to this. You are the worst." She said later as they sat in front of the fire after dinner.

"Your turn." He said as she took a bite from his piece of bread.

He watched her toast the bread lightly and brought it to his mouth.

"Thank you for the necklace. It's beautiful." She said, playing with the necklace.

"Thank you for everything." Pulling her close as they leaned against the sofa.

"It's the prettiest shade of blue."

"It is."


	2. Christmas Advent

Inspired by Zalfie's advent calendar.

 

* * *

  
It was her first year celebrating Christmas in Twelve. With him. With the children.

It was his first time celebrating Christmas. Religion wasn’t a big thing in Twelve when you spend most of time trying not to starve to death. Religion meant hope. And hope wasn’t a thing they were allowed in the Districts.

It was different in the Capitol though. Christmas was big and almost everyone celebrated it.

 

She thought she would make his first Christmas special by preparing an Advent Calendar for him.

24 days. Each day with a different clue and a different gift. She thought he would like that. She wanted to make his first Christmas special.

In actual fact, she was doing it more for herself than him. She wanted to do something to keep herself occupied. There wasn’t much you can do in winter in Twelve. So she spent her time preparing gifts. She already knew what she was giving him on Christmas day. She had been preparing since the start of November. Christmas would be the perfect day.

 

Day One

She made breakfast, pulled him out of bed and explained all the rules of how the advent calendar works.

She sounded so excited, he couldn’t help but play along even though he didn’t understand the occasion. He knew how much effort she had put into preparing his advent calendar. It was good to see her bubbly self again.

 

Each day there would be a clue to the gift hidden somewhere in the house and he would have to solve it to get his gift. She explained.

 

Day one would be easy. Just a warm up. She exclaimed excitedly as she watched him open the envelope to the first clue.

 

Written in silver ink on red paper.

"Santa's beard show us that he is quite old

Your gift is hidden where we keep our food cold."

 

There in the fridge. Wrapped in simple brown paper and decorated with some string and ribbon.

"Guess what is inside." She said as he took out the gift from the fridge.

He tried feeling it. Squishy. Slightly bigger than his palm.

"Gloves? Socks?" Not that hard.

"Open it then."

It was a pair of dark green woolen gloves.

"You know it defeats the purpose of it when you keep it in the fridge. Now its all cold." He teased.

"You are suppose to say thank you when you receive a gift. Not criticize it. If you don’t like it, give it back then." She replied pretending to be annoyed.

"You are welcome, Sweetheart." He laughed. Pressing a kiss on her cheek.

 

* * *

 

Over the days he got more presents. He didn’t realise he had come to look forward to every morning where he gets to solve each clue to get her presents. Over the course of the next twenty days, he received tons of gifts. A pair of socks. A Christmas jumper. A black scarf. A box of cookies. A hand woven beanie. Books. Candles.

 

Some days he wondered how many different gifts can she get before she ran out of ideas. Little did he know that she had planned 24 different gifts a month ahead. Even his Christmas gift was one of a kind.

 

* * *

 

 

Day Twenty Two

Now with it being so near Christmas Day, he had ran out of ideas of what she could actually give him. After the tenth day mark, he just gave up guessing altogether.

 

He woke up to find her in the kitchen as usual. Table set with his clue waiting for him in front of his plate of breakfast.

"Do this one before breakfast." She smiled.

 

"You are going through these clues at a good pace.

This next one is hidden in the fire ______."

 

He got to the living room to see a neatly wrapped box beside their fire place. Small but it has some weight.

It was a mug. No wonder he didn’t see any drinks on the table today.

 

"I got us matching mugs! Aren't they adorable?" She exclaimed.

Nothing too crazy. Just two matching Christmas mugs. He quite like it. At least the gifts she bought were quite practical.

"Yeah. Can we have breakfast now? I am starving." Dragging her back into the kitchen.

 

Day Twenty Three

"Brrr…. Outside is really quite chilly.

Next, check the front porch, but don’t be silly."

 

A pair of new boots.

 

"Do you like it? I figured we could head out today. You could use all of your new gifts!" She said hugging him from behind.

"You sure? It is still quite chilly outside today. You hate the cold."

"It has been a week since we got out. I am bored to death being inside every day."

 

It turns out they weren't even out for 30 minutes before she couldn’t take it anymore and they headed to the bakery instead. They spent the whole day helping out at the bakery. Even with the freezing weather, the bakery was still buzzing with people. They figured it was because of the Christmas themed baked goods Peeta started making for the season.

 

"So what have you prepared for Effie?" Katniss asked as they stood arranging the freshly baked goods on the shelf.

"Nothing. Have you prepared anything for Peeta?" He looked over at Peeta and Effie standing behind the counter packing cookies and shot back her question.

"Not yet. But I have something in mind. Peeta said he got me something. I bet Effie has prepared something big for you too."

"Almost everything you see on me right now is from her." He replied. Maybe he should get her something too.

"Are you serious?" Eyeing his entire outfit. "And you never thought of getting her anything?"

"I mean what is lacking? She has everything she needs."

"There is always something you can get her." She said as Peeta called out for her. She patted him on the shoulder as she made her way back to the counter.

 

Maybe he could think of something. Two days left.

 

He did have something he always wanted to give her.

 

Day Twenty Four

"Don’t give up! You are almost done!

Find your gift under the tree and start unwrapping the fun!"

 

Last day. Today's is the biggest package he has received throughout these 24 days.

Big and squishy. A new winter coat. It was so soft and warm.

 

"I hope you like all the gifts I have prepared through this month." She said as they sat snuggled on the couch enjoying their hot chocolate.

"I do. Thank you." He said quietly.

"That's a first. It is Christmas!" She chuckled.

 

"I love you." She whispered, resting her head on his chest.

 

She knew he couldn’t say it but it is okay. She felt his arms wrapping around her. He pressed a kiss on her head. That was as good as it gets.

 

She was nervous for tomorrow.

 

Christmas Day

He woke up much earlier today to surprise her. Breakfast in bed. She would like that.

Eggs, toast, sausages and fresh apple juice.

 

He finished preparing just as she made her way down into the kitchen. He tried to get her back up into the bedroom but she argued that it would ruin the sheets if they ate in bed. So they had breakfast in the kitchen instead. Not that much of a breakfast in bed but he hoped she enjoyed it anyway.

 

"Thank you. I loved it." Kissing him on the lips as they put their dishes away.

 

They just finished cleaning up when she passed him an envelope.

"We are doing this today too? I thought yesterday was the last?"

"This is your Christmas gift. I wanted to give it to you before the party tonight."

It wasn’t really a party. Just a small gathering with the kids and their friends at the kids' house.

 

* * *

 

"Santa Claus wears a bright suit made of red.

Now go look where you rest your head."

 

It was below his pillow. Another envelope. Red with copper lining. Different from the ones she had given him for the previous days. On the front, "With love, Effie" was written in gold ink.

 

He examined it and looked at her expectantly. He had absolutely no idea what was inside.

"Go ahead." She wrung her fingers together.

He carefully tore the envelope open and slid the contents out.

 

It was a - photograph?

Black and white and blotchy. What? Part of him thinks he knows what this is but...

His fingers brushed her name in the corner.

"Is it - " He lifted his head to see her in tears.

 

"Why are you crying?" He brushed her tears away and gathered her in his arms.

"I am pregnant."

"Yeah. I figured." He said calmly.

"Are you happy?" She asked.

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Then I am too."


	3. All I Ask

_I have been wanting to write a oneshot on this song since I heard it for the first time. I guess this could be an insert to what happened in my other story "To Each Of Their Own" before they left the penthouse. Enjoy! ^^_

* * *

_I will leave my heart at the door_

_I won't say a word_

_They've all been said before, you know_

_So why don't we just play pretend_

_Like we're not scared of what is coming next_

_Or scared of having nothing left_

 

He was all over her. Hands everywhere. Her hair. Her waist. Her ass.

She didn’t care anymore. They weren't thinking anymore, just letting their instincts take them.

There were noises. Maybe it was them. She couldn’t think straight. Too much sensations.

 

The lift finally reached the top floor and the doors slid open. They got out of the lift tearing each other's clothes off. This has been their routine every year. Screwing each other senseless in the penthouse.

 

But this year is different. This year -she hoped- would be the last year they would meet in such conditions. Next year, there wouldn’t be any games. No picking of tributes. No killing of innocent children. _She hoped._

 

She hoped he knew what he meant to her. She hoped he would see her differently when all this is over. She hoped they both would still be alive after this. _Or just him she suppose. He deserved a peaceful life after all he had been through._ She hoped they would meet again after tonight. She hoped some day or in some other parallel universe she would be able to tell him what she felt for him and he would reciprocate those feelings.

 

She did. Did you know? Sometimes in the dead of the night after all the sex before she slipped out of his room. She would tell him while he was asleep. She would press a kiss against his chapped lips and whisper _I love you_ before leaving.

 

Today, though she knew tomorrow is going to be different, she is going to enjoy their routine for the last time. Like nothing is wrong. Like she is not afraid of what is going to happen in a few hours. Even though she knew the sacrifices for a better world, she wouldn’t deny she was shaking inside. So she welcomed his distraction. _She suppose  he needed it too._

 

_Look, don't get me wrong_

_I know there is no tomorrow_

_All I ask is_

_If this is my last night with you_

_Hold me like I'm more than just a friend_

_Give me a memory I can use_

_Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do_

_It matters how this ends_

_Cause what if I never love again?_

 

Tonight, they were different. They stopped fucking after their third round. They made love. They didn’t speak. They didn’t know who initiated it. Maybe it was her. She peppered his body with kisses. Every feature. Every scar. He did it too. He worshipped her while she committed him to her memory.

 

If this is their last night together. She wanted to remember him. She wanted a memory to keep her through what will happen after tonight. She laced their fingers together while he pleasured her with his head between her legs. His rough hands covering hers.

 

They never did this before. She felt loved by him for once. She love him too much; too long. She couldn’t remember loving anyone before him. She couldn’t imagine loving anyone else other than him.

 

_I don't need your honesty_

_It's already in your eyes_

_And I'm sure my eyes, they speak for me_

_No one knows me like you do_

_And since you're the only one that matters_

_Tell me who do I run to?_

 

Unlike her, she knew he loved before. Long ago, a girl she never met. A girl she knew meant a lot to him. A girl whose name he whispered sometimes in the dead of the night when his nightmares get him. A girl who he loved so much her death broke him. A girl she was so envious of.

 

She wondered if her death would mean something to him too. She wondered if one day he would love her like he loved her. She wondered if one day he would look at her with love instead of lust. She wondered if they were alive at the end they would end up together. _She wondered about a lot of things. But she knew for now she could only dream._

 

She loved him so much it hurts. She loved him for too long that she don’t know what her purpose is after all these is over. Her purpose was always him. For him, a life he deserves. For her? What did she deserve?

 

_Let this be our lesson in love_

_Let this be the way we remember us_

_I don't wanna be cruel or vicious_

_And I ain't asking for forgiveness_

_All I ask is_

 

Let this be her lesson in love. Not to fall too hard.

Let this the way she remembered them. Here in this bed. Where she meant something to him. Even if it is just for one night.

 

She wasn’t asking for forgiveness. She just hopes that he wouldn’t hate her too much when he finds out later.

 

_If this is my last night with you_

_Hold me like I'm more than just a friend_

_Give me a memory I can use_

_Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do_

_It matters how this ends_

_Cause what if I never love again?_

 

She didn’t leave after they were done.

She never stayed before. But she did tonight.

Tonight was the last night so she thought she might as well let herself fall in love for the last time instead of running away. She embraced his warmth for the last time. She wondered if he knew. She wondered if he loved her too.

 

She stared at his face trying to map it in her memory. His eyes. His nose. His scruff. His lips. His cheeks. She hope this wasn’t the last time she gets to see him. But if it is at least she had this memory to hold on to.

 

_After tonight it doesn’t matter anymore. For this moment, she was willing to let herself free fall for him. To fall harder than she ever will. Because this moment matters more than anything. Because this may be the last time she ever loved._


	4. Dont Tell Him

Inspired by a scene I recently watched. Warning: this is sad.

-

 

Sunrise. Her favourite time of the day. Everything was full of promise. She removed the hand draped across her torso and made her way to the bathroom. The faint ache in her abdomen has been there for a few weeks but she ignored it. She is slowly getting used to it anyway.

 

After washing up, she slowly made her way down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. They prepare breakfasts on alternate mornings. It has been almost 20 years and it has became a routine. Over the years her cooking has improved with guidance from Peeta. Pancakes with sausages. His favourite.

 

She heard him shuffling down the stairs just as she finished plating the food.

"Morning. Smells good." She heard him said in his scruffy voice.

"You say that everytime Haymitch."

"Remind me to stop paying you any compliments." He grumbled.

"You just can't resist." She replied pecking his cheek. "Today's weather looks good. Perhaps we could head out for a picnic at the meadow."

"Sure."

"Should we ask the kids?"

"Yeah. I will head over later."

-

 

Sitting on top of their picnic mat, she slowly laid out the food that they have prepared occasionally looking up to watch the others running around in the field. She never felt more at peace. Having a life here with her family. A lifetime ago she probably wouldn’t have imagined this. Sitting here watching Haymitch play with Peeta and Katniss's child. A few years ago she would have been envious of them. The thought of having a child of her own. But she was too old and too damaged for that. Now she has come to terms with it.

 

The faint ache in her abdomen is still there and seems to be getting stronger. She tried to breathe through it. It subsided for a while and it came back. She lay down on the mat trying to ignore the pain but it just got stronger. She heard someone calling out for her in the distance. But she was in too much pain to respond. She could see dark spots dancing in front of her. Slowly, she faded out of consciousness.

 

-

She woke up to his face in front of her.

"How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" She asked ignoring his question.

"Well… you fainted while we were out having the picnic remember?"

"Yeah."

 

"Hi, Miss Trinket. Sorry for the interruption, I am Dr Johnson and I am the doctor in charge of your case. I am going to ask you some questions and then we are going to run some tests before we can know more about what's going on. "

 

After a few moments of poking and prodding, the doctor finally left to attend to another patient before assigning the nurse to schedule her tests.

 

"Why didn’t you tell me you have been feeling ill for the past few weeks?"  
"I am fine and I didn’t think it was anything serious."

"And now you are in the hospital."

"I am fine." She reassured him.

 

"How are the kids? I feel so bad for ruining the picnic."

"Don’t worry about them. They went home after we brought you here. They don’t do well in hospitals."

"You too."

"But I have to be here, don’t I?" He said holding her hand.

 

Their private moment was again interrupted by the nurse announcing that she will be bringing her out for some tests while she sent Haymitch home to grab some clothes.

-

 

It was a few hours later when they finally got the results. Dr Johnson came in with a file in hand.

"We have got your results back." She paused with a solemn face. "And I have some news."

"Results show that you have a tumor growth in your liver. We have to run further tests to determine whether it is benign or cancerous. Until then, do keep a positive mind. The nurse will be picking you in a while." With that, she left the room again.

 

"Fuck."

"I am sure I will be fine." She assured him even though deep down she was scared to death. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of death. There are still so many things she wanted to do with him. They were planning of visiting Four next month. Have a long due vacation by the sea.

"You don’t know that."

"If I die, your wish of wanting to get rid of me all these years will finally be fulfilled." She joked trying to cheer him up.

"Don’t say things like that. If you are going to die, it's going to be by my hands." With that, they fell back to their usual banter. For a while she forgot about her worries.

-

 

Dr Johnson returned once again but this time Haymitch was out in the washroom. Her facial expression gave everything away. Bad news.

"You have bad news." She simply stated.

"Sorry?" The doctor looked stunned.

"My results."

"I am sorry Miss Trinket." She hesitated before continuing. "Your results came back to reveal that the tumor is indeed cancerous. Stage four liver cancer. We have treatments -"

"How long?" It was rude cutting her off. But she couldn’t care less. Too many thoughts flooded her mind at once. But there was only one thing she wanted the doctor to do.

"Six months at best."

"Thank you. I would not be seeking any treatment. I only have one request. Please do not tell my partner."

"Why?" She did not expect the doctor to question her.

"I will not be spending my final days in the hospital." She paused before continuing. "He hates hospitals. I don’t want him to spend it here with me."

 

Haymitch doesn’t need to know. She is going to die either way. She has spent way too much time in a hospital, she will not spend her last days here too. If she is going to die, she'd rather die happy. She didn’t need him to worry or grief or spend his time wallowing in sadness when they could be enjoying themselves. She cheated death once.20 years ago. It is time to face it this time. They have had years together unlike others. They built a life with Peeta and Katniss. Maybe it is time.

 

"You should really consider. It could buy you more time." Dr Johnson suggested.

"If those times are spent in the hospital, I’d rather not have them at all. I really appreciate your help Dr Johnson. Thank you."

 

"Hey Princess, got you your favourite coffee." Haymitch said smiling with a cup in his hand.

"Dr Johnson says I am fine and I can go home soon." She beamed and looked over at her doctor.

"Um… Yeah. She can be discharged tomorrow morning after all the paperwork is done."

"Thank you." They both said together.

 

-

 

Over the next few months the pain got worse. She tried to hide them from him the best she could. He didn’t need to see her in pain. She took painkillers when it was too much to bear. This pain was bearable compared to see him worry about her.

 

They spend most of their time travelling. It was always her dream to travel around the districts and she managed to persuade him to do it too. It was almost four months since their trip to the hospital and she knew she didn’t have much time left. The pain these days were barely bearable. She was weaker than she liked. Some days she just wanted to give up. But she thought of him. Of them. The life they fought hard for. She couldn’t give up so easily.

 

She knew he knew too. Haymitch was smart, surely he could see her getting worse as the days passed. Some days when he thought she wasn’t looking, his usual mask would break too.

 

-

 

"I am sorry." She said one night in bed.

"For what sweetheart?" He chuckled, holding her tighter in his arms.

"I refused treatment. I told Dr Johnson to not tell you." She paused to look up at him searching for betrayal in his eyes. "I didn’t want you to worry." But she found none. Instead his eyes softened.

"I met her outside the room. I told her not to tell you." He sighed.

"What?"

"Stage four liver cancer. She said chances of survival were slim. In other words, impossible. I know you hate hospitals. I hate hospitals. I didn’t want you to be scared. I didn’t want you to spend your last days there too. When I saw your face as I entered the room, I knew she told you. It had been so long since I saw your mask back on." He pressed a kiss on her forehead with his eyes closed.

"These few months have been the best." She said tearing up.

"They have." He smiled.

"Haymitch." She whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Promise me something." He nodded.

"Try to live this time. Please." She choked slightly, tears free flowing down her cheeks.

He kept quiet.

"Promise? Watch the kids grow up for me. Tell them I love them."

"Okay. I promise." He whispered.

"Don’t let them worry about you. Don’t forget to feed yourself or the geese."

"Don’t die on me this time." He begged.

"I am too annoying to die remember?" She joked. These were the exact same words he told her 20 years ago.

 

 

-

She passed a week later in his arms by the beach in Four. A part of him died too. He was never the same again. But he knew what he promised her. To live his life. He watched Peeta and Katniss's kids grow up, told them stories about their aunt who went travelling in a place far away.

 

As they grew older, they asked him if he love her. He said he did. He still does. Then they asked why didn’t he go with her. He said he wanted to. But he loved her too much so he couldn’t break his promise. The younger one said maybe one day when they are all grown up, he can go find her.

 

Maybe one day he will.


	5. Intersecting

Just an idea that popped up in my mind. In several universes where our beloved couple never met each other.

 

-

There are people whose paths crossed and never meet again.

There are people whose paths crossed over and over again.

There are people whose paths crossed and never separate.

There are people whose paths never crossed.

 

Every action sends a ripple in time. Every choice has an effect on our lives. Something you did or did not changes your life entirely.

 

-

In one universe, their paths never crossed. He was never reaped and she never became the escort.

In this universe, Haymitch Abernathy was born a year later. He was never reaped in the Second Quarter Quell. He married his girlfriend at the age of 18 and they had two beautiful girls. He started a business fixing furniture for people in the district. His daughters were never reaped too. He lived a fairly long life and died at the age of 60 due to pneumonia.

 

Effie Trinket was born into a family of plastic surgeons. She always aspired to be like her parents. She never wanted to be a model or escort. Her goal in life was to earn that white coat. And she did. She met her husband who was a fellow surgeon in the same hospital. They never had kids but they had a loving relationship. She died in his arms at the age of 75.

 

They never knew each other's existence.

 

-

In one universe, their paths never crossed. He never won and she never knew him.

In this universe, Haymitch Abernathy was reaped for the Second Quarter Quell. He was smart but not strong enough. He died three days into the games. A single blow to the head. Marking the end of District Twelve's journey in the games. No one remembered him.

 

Effie Trinket became District Twelve's escort three years later. With no Victors, she had to be both a mentor and escort to her tributes. Needless to say, none of them ever won. She was transferred to District Nine five years later. She dedicated her life to the games and married the Head Gamemaker at the age of 32. She lived her life without ever meeting Haymitch.

 

She knew him but he never knew her.

 

-

In one universe, their paths never crossed. He never became the drunk and she never made it into this world.

In this universe, Haymitch Abernathy won without the help of the force field. His family never died. He got back home and married his girlfriend. He swore to never have kids. His family lived a life of comfort and he spent his time mentoring kids he knew would never make it through the games but he tries anyway.

 

Effie Trinket was never Effie Trinket. Her mother never wanted kids. She was aborted at nine weeks old.

 

-

In one universe, their paths never crossed. He was a she and she was someone else's escort.

In this universe, Haylee Abernathy won her games with her wits and charm. She was a tough girl. She was sold every year to the highest bidder. She never fell in love or had kids. She died alone in her room due to drug overdose one night. She was 27.

 

Effie Trinket made it through escort training and officially became the youngest escort ever at the age of 17. She was Twelve's escort for a brief year before getting promoted. Not only was she the youngest, she was also the most sought after amongst the districts. She rose to the top in merely five years and spent her ten years of her life escorting before retiring to become a lecturer in escort school.

 

They met in her first year as an escort and never met again.

 

-

In this universe, their paths crossed over and over and over again. He was the drunk and she was the escort.

Haymitch Abernathy won his games and got his family killed. He spent his time drinking his life away. He met her the year after he managed to chase his fifth escort away. She was everything you would get in a horrible nightmare. Too loud. Too happy. Too bossy. Just too damn annoying.

 

Effie Trinket wanted to be an escort for as long as she could remember. As a child she always fantasized about meeting the charming victor of the Second Quarter Quell. She worked hard to make it through escort training and finally landed in Twelve. The first day she saw him, she vowed to be the fastest and youngest escort to get promoted in their first year as escort. He wasn’t what she imagined in her dreams. Too drunk. Too rude. Too dirty.

She was smart. She was efficient. She was good at what she does. Too good for her apparently. Three years on and she was still stuck with him.

 

Little did they know, five years on, she would fall in love with him again. Ten years and he would realised she wasn’t just a fling. Twelve years and they would meet a pair of tributes who could change their lives.

 

Fifteen years from now, they would be living together in their house in Twelve. Their kids lived across the street. He got geese and she got a puppy. They were never the same person they met the first day. But they were each other's.

 

In this universe, their paths crossed over and over and over again.

In the end, they vowed to never separate because they let each other slip away too many times.

He was her drunk and she was his escort.

She was his and he was hers.


	6. Best Christmas Ever

_A continuation from Christmas Advent. Enjoy! ^^_

_I am updating really slowly here because I am not used to the format on AO3. If anyone is still here, reading my fics. Thank you so much! xxx_

* * *

 

"How long?"

"Three months soon."

They stood in their embrace till the phone rang. Effie hurried out of the room and headed down to the living room.

 

"Hello?" She said slightly out of breath.

"Hey Trinket! Why do you sound out of breath? In midst of screwing Haymitch? We are just calling to let you know that we are going to reach in half an hour. See you at the station. Get back to whatever you were doing then. Bye." With that, Johanna hung up.

She didn’t even let her have a chance to speak. She sighed. Typical Johanna.

 

"Who was it?" Haymitch asked walking to stand behind her.

"Johanna called saying that they are going to reach in half an hour." She let herself fall back into his arms. "We should leave soon to pick them up."

"Sure." Wrapping his arms around her. Sliding it down to her waist.

 

For a moment, he let himself imagine what their future looks like. Who their child will look like. A little girl like her or a little boy like him. He imagined their big blue eyes and soft blonde hair. He imagined teaching them how to have fun. It has been a while since he allowed himself such moments.

 

Just for that moment. Because the next, his mind wandered to the millions of possibilities of what could go wrong. What if he couldn’t protect them? What if he wasn’t a good father? What if they lose the baby? What if…

 

She must have felt him stiffen as she held his hands and turned around to face him.

Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him as she led his palms to her stomach.

"We are going to be fine."

 

* * *

 

With the cold weather, it took them longer than usual to reach the station. When they finally reached,  Johanna, Annie and Finn were already there waiting for them. Before anyone spoke, Effie hurried over to hug them.

 

"I miss you guys so much." Effie said still hugging Johanna.

"I surely don’t miss this." Johanna groaned.

"Don’t lie to yourself Johanna, you are secretly happy to see me." Effie retorted turning her attention to Finn who is in Annie's arms.

"Unless you want to freeze to death, I suggest we go now. The weather doesn’t look so good today." Haymitch announced picking up their bags. 

 

They slowly made their way to Katniss and Peeta's as they kindly offered to host them. Effie and Annie chatting at the back. Johanna and Haymitch leading the way with their bags, catching up on life. By the time they reached the house, it was already getting dark. Winter days are much shorter in Twelve.

 

After leaving the trio at the kids', they made their way back to their house to prepare for the party later that day.

 

* * *

 

She was picking out their outfits just as he stepped out of the shower. Back towards him, oblivious to his presence in the room, he watched her intently from behind.

Who would have imagined him sober, having a life with her without the games.

 

He walked over to his side of the bed and opened the drawer where he kept his gift. He kept it in a little wooden box he made. It has been years since he opened it. It was his token from his mother. A ring passed down from generations before him. She always wore it on her. It was the only thing his mother had on her the day he was reaped. She took it off and told him to keep it.

_I want you to come home and give it back to me yourself._

He came home. But he never got to return it.

 

"Hey, what are you looking at?" She had finished picking out their outfits and was now looking at him.

"I have something for you too." He walked over to where she was standing with the box in hand.

"What is it?" She asked as he pulled her hand up and placed the box in them.

"My token."

"Can I open it?"

"Yes."

 

His breathe hitched as he watched her slowly open the box to reveal the ring.

"It was my token from my mother. It is the only thing I have from her."

"I can't… It's yours." She stuttered.

"It's yours now." He took the ring out and slid it onto her ring finger. It was a little big for her. But it looked perfect.

"Do you think she would want me to have it?" She said sliding her arms around him and resting her head on his bare chest.

"She would want me to be happy." _He is._

He felt her tears running down his chest.

"Merry Christmas, Ef."

"Merry Christmas." She repeated, tipping her toes to give him a kiss.

* * *

Dinner was great. Peeta prepared a full spread almost too much for them to finish. They all had a great time catching up and playing with little Finn. After that, they all help to clean up with Annie tried to lull her son to sleep.

 

After clearing up, it was time for gift exchanging. They sat in a circle on the living room floor surrounded by wrapping paper. Not everyone brought gifts but everyone received at least one gift. Effie of course went crazy with gifting. She love giving presents. She got Peeta a new set of cooking books. She knitted a pair of gloves for Katniss. A pair of boots for Johanna. A diary for Annie and some new toys for Finn.

 

"Nothing for Haymitch?" Annie asked.

"She will probably give it to him later while they are back home." Johanna smirked.

"I don’t even want to know." Katniss groaned.

"She already gave it to me." Haymitch said.

"I knew it! You guys were fucking when I called just now."

"Language." Effie chided. "And no, we weren't." She blushed.

"So what did you give him? Or is it private?" Peeta asked curiously.

 

"Well… I -" Effie hesitated, relaxing when she felt Haymitch's hand covering hers.

"We are expecting." She beamed looking over at Haymitch.

"What?" Katniss and Johanna gasped at the same time.

"Oh my god! Congratulations!" Annie leaned forward to give her a hug. "You guys are going to be wonderful parents."

"Congrats!" Peeta shuffled over to embrace her too.

"Thank you."

 

Peeta and Annie spent the next few minutes bombarding them with baby questions until the rest couldn’t take it anymore.

"Can we do something else? Lets play "never have I ever"." Johanna exclaimed.

"Yeah. This is driving me crazy too." Katniss concurred.

* * *

It was almost half past two when they finally left the kids'.

He let out a breath and watch the mist dissipate before him.

"I had a great time tonight. Did you?" She asked snuggling into his side.

"I did." He watched their feet sink into the snow with each step they took, lost in his own thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?"

 _Us. Today. Our family. Everything. This was everything I could never wish for._ He thought as they slowly approached their house.

"This is the best Christmas ever." He whispered as they stepped in front of the door. Leaning forward, he captured her lips with his.

 

 


	7. New Year's Resolution

**Effie**

It was almost dark outside as she stepped into her house. She shed her winter coat, hung it up on the stand before picking up her grocery bags and heading into the kitchen.

New Year's Eve. Another year gone.  Another New Year's Eve spent alone. The children tries to invite her over every year but she politely declines.

After the war, she was never the same. The old Effie Trinket didn’t exist anymore. Everything she used to love, she loathe them now. The flashy clothes. The crazy wigs. The glamour. The loud parties. The socialising. The late nights. The extravagant food and drinks. The city she resides in. The colourful life. _Even him, her body and herself._

Sometimes she wondered if you could love someone so much that you hate them. You hate yourself for loving them.

All that was left is a shell. She used to be filled with purpose, love and happiness. Now, she is empty. She doesn’t have a purpose anymore. She couldn’t feel anymore. She doesn’t laugh anymore.

She prefers plain and comfortable clothes. She doesn’t wear make up or wigs. She enjoys her solitude. She barely has any human contact. She sleeps early. She eats only when needed. She wants to leave this city. It was like the butterfly went into her cocoon and decided to be a caterpillar.  And this caterpillar never wants to leave her cocoon.

She likes her cocoon. She prefers the darkness where no one could see her. _Where she couldn’t see herself._

* * *

It has been five years and she is still alone. She couldn’t remember the last time she met up with someone other than Plutarch. The old Effie would be horrified. But this Effie, she didn’t mind at all. The kids called once in a while to check on her. This was the only dose of human contact she allowed herself. Talking was tiring. Meeting people was tiring. Stepping out of the house was tiring. _Human contact was tiring._

She met people only when needed. She worked from home, helping Plutarch with paperwork and administrative work. She liked it. It kept her occupied and she like to think that she was helping the country to get better. _She was helping herself get better._

* * *

Sipping on her hot chocolate. She heard the countdown and cheers from the streets.

 _Happy New Year._ She thought. Happy is such a foreign word to her. When was the last time she felt happy?

That night before everything went down. When he held her in his arms. When she still loved him. When she still thought he loved her.

And no, she wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. The first two years she cried too much. Until one day, she just felt numb. That day she stopped crying with the sadness deeply rooted in her. It became part of her. It wasn’t just an emotion anymore. It was her.

Sitting alone on the couch in the dark, she could hear all the celebrations outside her quiet apartment. She couldn’t understand how she once was a part of that noise. She couldn’t understand the significance of the celebration. _It was just another day._ She couldn’t understand why people were excited about this seemingly insignificant day every year.

Sometimes she wondered what was wrong with herself. How could she be so empty. How could she not understand any other emotion apart from sadness.

* * *

Sometimes she wonder how he was doing. But she couldn’t bring herself to ask the kids when they called. She hates him. That’s what she told herself. Because she couldn’t love him. He used her. He left her. He never once called or visited her. He never once asked about her. He never loved her.

But she wants to forgive him. That is her New Year's resolution. Because even hating him was tiring.

Loving him was tiring. Hating herself for loving him was tiring. Hating him for not loving her was tiring.

 _Hating him pains her._ Because it made everything real. It made the fact that he did not love her real.

Five years is a long time. Hating yourself for five years was almost physically painful.

It was time.

* * *

She picked up her phone and searched for his number. Hoping that his number is still the same, she brought the phone to her ears.

She took a deep breath before whispering. "I forgive you."

There was no answer from the other side. She never dialed his number.

* * *

**Haymitch**

It has been five years since he saw her. Five years and yet he still couldn’t find the courage to face her. Sometimes the kids would tell him how she was doing over dinner. He would brush it off with a nonchalant comment and continue eating.

Deep down he knew he broke her heart. But in that process, he broke his too. He didn’t mean to leave her behind. _Twice._ He can never forgive himself and he never expects her to either. It is better if she didn’t, she deserved someone better than him. She deserved a life without him.

Five years. Every year the kids would invite her over on New Year's Eve. Every year part of him hoped that she would accept their invitation. _He just wanted to see her. Even for once._ The last time he saw her was in the hospital. It lasted for a second before she started screaming and he was chased out of the room. It hurt him to see her hurting. There was so much he wished he did.

After the war, he never changed. He went back to what he did best - wallowing in self loathe and drinking himself to a stupor everyday. He ate whatever the kids brought over. He showered when the stench got unbearable.

The only thing that has changed was the geese. They gave him a purpose. They were supposed to be a distraction but instead they reminded him of her. It was his way of learning to cope with a life without her.

He repaired his phone in hopes that one day she would call. He missed her. He missed her voice. He missed her chatter. He missed her scent. He missed a lot of things about her. You never realise that there can be so many things you can miss about a person until you lose them. After working together for more than ten years and sleeping together for almost five, there are things you pick up. There are things you never thought you knew until the day you realise it is not there anymore.

* * *

Sitting at the kids dining table on New Year's Eve, it felt good to be around people once in a while.

He couldn’t remember when was the last time he cleaned up before today. Maybe that should be his New Year's resolution. Katniss joked.

Little did she know that he has one. And it has been the same one every year since the war. _To meet Effie again._

Although he wasn’t entirely sure that he wants to achieve his resolution. They parted on bad terms and he never made the effort to contact her even though he knew it was his fault. He just couldn’t face her. He loved her. Hell he did. But he never knew the right way to love. And she deserved to be loved.

Maybe this year he would make it happen.

* * *

He got home slightly after dark to feed geese and meet his minimum quota of alcohol intake. Grabbing a bottle off the counter, he settled into his usual spot on the couch. Halfway through his third bottle, he started feeling fuzzy. He liked it. It was in between being sober and drunk. It was the high. He stumbled into the bathroom to relief himself and on his way back the couch the phone mounted on the wall caught his attention.

Maybe he should - His body took action before his mind made sense of what he was doing. "Hi Sweetheart, I know it has been a while." He giggled. He let his mouth do all the talking and words just poured out before he could even process what he was saying.

The next thing he remembered was waking up slumped against the wall with the phone hanging by his side. Then it occurred to him that he never knew her number because it was always her who called.

_Maybe one day he will find the courage to tell her what he said in his drunken stupor last night._


	8. Imperfections

Effie Trinket was brought up to think that she was imperfect in many ways. She was never tall enough, slim enough, pretty enough, smart enough as her mother reminded her every single day of her childhood and the list goes on and on and on.

Where she wasn’t tall enough, her mother gave her heels. Where she wasn’t slim enough, her mother gave her pills. Where she wasn’t pretty enough, her mother taught her make up. Where she wasn’t smart enough, well… she said she could get around marrying a rich husband.

Effie Trinket was taught from young that she was imperfect. All her life  she worked hard towards being the perfect human her mother wanted to be. She wore her heels and make up, she kept to a strict diet and exercised, she worked harder than everyone else in her school so that one day - one day she hoped her mother would be proud of her. 

* * *

When she was old enough for people to notice her, they told her she was perfect. They told her she was pretty. They told her she would make it big in the modelling world. And she did. For a few years, she thought that was her life. That was what defined her. She finally felt perfect. But that was never enough in her mother's eyes. So she quit her job as a model and joined Escort school.

After two years of training, she finally made it to graduation. Youngest in her batch. Her mother was proud. But all went down when she was assigned to District Twelve. She worked hard in her first years to get promoted. She was good at her job. Too good at it that they didn’t want to transfer her.

Over the years, she had accepted the fact that she was a disgrace to her mother. Where her mother found her imperfect, she seek her perfection from others. Maybe this was where she could fulfil her mother's final dream. _Marrying a rich husband._

She slept around. Escorts, sponsors, gamemakers and some others. Anyone she could. She was engaged more times she could remember. Despite wanting to make her mother happy, she couldn’t bring herself to marry someone she didn’t love.

* * *

Three years into escorting Twelve, she slept with her victor. It started with their usual bantering but this time they ended up in her room. It was their first time sleeping together and they swore it would be the last. _It wasn’t._

The next time happened a year and a few months later after he accidentally poured whiskey all over her shoes. As they promised themselves that the last time was the last time again and again, they kept ending up against any surface they could find in the penthouse.

Soon it became a routine every time they met. They never said they were exclusive but Effie stopped sleeping around and she hoped he did too.

As years went by, she was still Twelve's Escort and her mother stopped trying to help her arrange dates. She gave up after deciding that Effie was a shame to the family _. Effie gave up trying to please her too._ She will always be the failure in the family.

* * *

She couldn’t remember when it became more than sex. She couldn’t remember when he stopped leaving right after they had sex. She couldn’t remember she fell in love with him.

He never told her she was pretty. He never told her he loved her. He never told her she was perfect. Their conversations were based on insults and crude comments. But she felt whole with him. She felt perfect with him.

Even when she was captured, she told herself it was worth it for him. They told her things about him. They told her things about her. She tried ignoring them. But she wasn’t strong enough. _Mother was right._ She let them get to her. _He didn’t love her. He was using her and he left her behind because she wasn’t useful to him anymore. He was never coming to rescue her._

But he did.

* * *

After the war, she wasn’t perfect anymore. Scars were littered all over her body. She flinched with the slightest jerk. Her hair was short and uneven. She couldn’t sleep without waking up screaming. She couldn’t keep down anything more than a few spoonful of porridge. Through the hardest times when she was healing, he held her close while whispering comforting words in her eyes. Even when she couldn’t make out what was real or not. Even she clawed at him, screaming at him to go away. Even when she bawled her eyes out. Even when she hid herself in various corners of the house.

It took a few months before she trusted him again. It took a few more before her outbursts stopped.

* * *

Here she is, three years after in their bathroom.

She realised while staring into the mirror recounting how each scar landed on her body that it was all her imperfections that made her whole. It was all her scars that made her stronger.

"You are beautiful." He said as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I am not perfect anymore."

"I don’t need perfect. You are enough."

Perfect was overrated. He was her imperfection. For him, she was enough.


	9. In dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a Vietnamese song in a movie I watched while I was interning there. Comments are greatly appreciated x

It was cold outside. First snow. They just stepped out from the children's house. Peeta and Katniss had invited them over to witness their toasting. She had rested her head on Haymitch's shoulder as they watched the kids exchange their vows. Even though it was a short affair, she had tears in her eyes watching the kids finally getting their happily ever after. After everything they have been through, they were all safe and together. After the toasting they had an amazing dinner prepared by Peeta while catching up with each other.

Now here they are, huddled together, making they way back to their house.

Inside, it was warm and toasty. So much has changed in the past few years. Peeta got better. Rebuilding was well in works. She was here with him. The kids got married. A vast difference from what she remembered when she first got here. Now, white curtains lined the windows, there was a brown fuzzy carpet and a maroon sofa in front of the fireplace, photographs and paintings adorned almost every room. It felt like home. This was her home. Where she belonged.

_In this moment, who cares who you are, who I am or who we are?_

_Maybe it's a dream we are in love. Maybe soon I will stop dreaming. Maybe soon you will find hope._

* * *

She walked over to Haymitch who was bending over the fireplace trying to build a bigger fire. Wrapping one arm around his neck from behind, she reached forward to pick the wood out of his hands.

"What are you doing?" He spoke as he turned around to face her.

"What do you think?" She leaned forward, her lips on his before he could even reply.

It wasn’t long before clothes were discarded. His lips locked on hers. His hands all over her body. His skin on hers. Too much sensations. They didn’t even make it out the living room. He had her right by the wall. It took her a while to recover before they were at it again. They finally made it to the bedroom after the third round. Both satisfied yet exhausted. She fell asleep with his body over hers, smiling.

_In this moment, who cares who you are, who I am or who we are?_

_Maybe it's a dream we are in love. Maybe soon I will stop dreaming. Maybe soon you will find hope._

* * *

"Morning" She felt his warm breath against her bare back, sending shivers down her spine. She snuggled closer towards him feeling his chest on her back. His hands wandered to her waist, his thumb slowly stroking her skin. She let out a grunt and reached down for his hand, bringing it up and wrapping his arm around herself. Satisfied with her new position, she opened her eyes.

* * *

It was dark. It was cold. It was wet.

She was lying on her side on the hard cement floor.

It hurt to open her eyes. They felt heavy and sore.

It hurt to breath. Every breath she took hurt her chest.

It hurt to move. Her right shoulder felt dislocated.

Everything hurts.

She couldn’t remember how long she has been here. She couldn’t remember what happened to her.

_It was a dream that we were in love. I need to stop dreaming._

* * *

It was two days before they came to drag her out of her cell. She knows two days had passed because they fed her twice. Both times she was too weak to move so they came in to shove food down her throat. Today, she finally got the strength to feed herself with her left hand. Halfway through her meal, they came in and pulled her up by her hair.

They brought her to a small room and sat her in front of glass panel before leaving her alone with one of them. He started asking her questions. She ignored them. She had her eyes locked on the couple behind him. They were in another room. The girl was also being interrogated. Her blonde hair was a mess. It was dirty, stained with blood and looked burnt in some places. She had cuts all over her arms and face. Her right shoulder looked swollen and sore. She had a bruised eye and split lips.

She wondered who could she be. She'd never seen her before. What did she do to deserve this torture? With her eyes still on the poor girl, she stuck her tongue out to lick her own lips. The girl seemed to be doing the same. Raising her eyes to find hers, she found her own.

It wasn’t a glass panel.

That was when the first blow came. She watched her reflection fall to the ground. Her interrogator's voice was muffled by the ringing in her ears. She saw him coming through the mirror.

A kick to the side of her head. She closed her eyes.

_I never want to stop dreaming._

* * *

"Morning" She turned to face him.

Bringing her hands up to cup his face, she kissed him till they were both out of breath.

"Breakfast?" She asked.

"Dessert first."

_In dreams, who cares who you are, who I am or who we are._

_In dreams, we are in love._

_I never want to stop dreaming._


	10. Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A spinoff from Of Things Unsaid. Enjoy~
> 
>  

 

Haymitch was right. He was right about many things.

 

He was right.

Effie Trinket was more than an escort to him. She was more than a pretty face and hot body. She meant something to him even if he doesn’t admit it out loud. Deep down, she meant something. She made him live a little more, smile a little more and feel a little more.

 

He was right.

Effie Trinket was annoying. She knew he liked her scent so she tries to keep away from perfume when she wasn’t attending parties. She fitted him perfectly. She wanted him to be happy. She was captured. She was dead.

She wasn’t remembered by many. 

 

In the end, he was right.

Effie Trinket wasn’t alive. She was killed the day before the rescue.

Effie Trinket was strong. She tried to stay alive. She did. But she wasn’t strong enough.

* * *

As much as he was right, he was also wrong.

 

He was wrong.

He thought she would be safer in the Capitol. He was wrong. She was safer with him but he left her alone.  She was captured, tortured and left to die alone.

 

He thought if he didn’t tell her anything she wouldn’t know. He was wrong. She was anything but dumb. She picked things up while working with him. She knew what was happening in the districts, she knew he was planning something big. She knew but she kept quiet because it would be safer for everyone.

 

He was wrong.

They didn’t make a spectacle of her death.

Effie Trinket died alone in a corner of her cell three weeks after her capture. There was no spectacle, no broadcast, no announcement. Her body was burnt in midst of everyone else they killed.

 

He thought if he lied to himself long enough, it would become the truth. That if he drank enough maybe he would find her again. That if he drank enough he could keep her forever. That if he drank enough then maybe they could be together.

 

_In the end, he was wrong. Of all things, he was wrong. They did deserve each other._


	11. Fairytales

That was how he discovered his story.

 

He found them in the attic amongst everything else his father left behind. He hasn’t been back for two years now but since they were selling the house, he figured he should at least come back one last time _just to get rid of the rubbish. And maybe find some stuff worth keeping._

 

The entries stopped halfway through his childhood. For the first six years, it had been filled with pictures of him and his mother. Little notes written in her handwriting. He couldn’t remember most of the memories which supposedly belonged to him 15 years ago. It felt like he was intruding someone else's life. The little boy in the picture held a smile he never knew he had.

 

He let his hand trail over the box filled with the few diaries his mother had. They were all about him. The diaries in the next box were different. While his mother's were light brown lined with a gold rim, these were black. Plain black. He never knew his mother kept other diaries.

 

Picking one up, he flipped to a random page. These were different. There weren't any dates. They were numbered. _#31 #126 #229_. The handwriting was different. Slightly messy unlike his mothers. They held no pictures, just words. Going through the various books, he found the first entry and started reading. 

* * *

_#1_

_I received your diaries today. You never told me about him. Plutarch said you threaten him to get them to me. He said he has been trying for weeks and he still couldn’t find him. So he thought he should send me the diaries first._ ~~_You should have told me. I am sorry._ ~~

 

_I don’t think I can do this, sweetheart. I don’t think I can do this without you. You should be here._

_Plutarch says he will keep trying and keep me updated. I am not sure I want to know._

 

_If you are wondering why I am writing, you once told me it was a good way to let go your feelings, to feel and to think. I stopped drinking after the war. Not willingly of course. But with all the rebuilding, the last thing on people's minds were alcohol production. Without the booze, there wasn’t much I can do so I started raising geese and today I decided to start writing. Katniss says it is time to start healing. I think so too._

 

_It has been five months, two weeks and three days. I have been counting._

~~_I am sorry._ ~~

_I miss you._

* * *

Flipping to another page he continued.

 

_#47_

_It has been a little over a month now. I think I am quite enjoying this. I moved your diaries to the attic today. I don’t think I can ever go through them. They have been sitting beside the couch for a while now._ ~~_I jus_ ~~

 

_Let's talk about something else. Peeta is coming back soon. Plutarch says he is doing so much better. In a week or two he may be able to come back. I haven't told Katniss yet. I probably should later when she brings dinner over._

 

_It hurts. It still does._

_You are annoying you know that? I hate you for dying._

 

_Ily._

* * *

He picked up another book and continued.

 

_#531_

 

* * *

 

_They found him._

_P sent over a picture of him. He is in an orphanage now. P is asking whether he should send him over to Twelve. Katniss says it is my choice. Peeta says I should. He says I should read the diaries too. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I can do this without you._

 

_Everything would be so much easier if you were here. This is all your fault._

 

_I miss you so much._

* * *

_#567_

_P says he is sending him over next week._

_I cannot do this._

_You should be here._

* * *

A week after that post, he arrived with Plutarch at this exact house with nothing but a backpack. He was ten.

He remember his father sitting on the couch just looking at him. He remember him walking into the kitchen and pulling out a bottle. He remember the strong stench of the alcohol stinging his nose. He remember watching him while he drank. He remember trying to wake his father up because he was too hungry. He remember his father chasing him out of the house. He remember sitting on the stairs and crying in the dark night. He remember waking up to Uncle Peeta nudging him. He remember being sent away every time Aunt Kat and Uncle Peeta tried to bring him to visit his father.

* * *

 

_#572_

_I drank again yesterday. For the first time in almost three years. It didn’t feel good at all. It felt awful._

_He looks so much like you sweetheart. His eyes, his nose and his smile. They are all yours._

_He looks beautiful. But I just can't. He was asking me so many questions and I just couldn’t say anything. So I drank till I passed out._

_Peeta found him today sleeping outside the house._

_I cannot face him. Every time I look at him I see you._

_I am not a father sweetheart. I cannot be his father._

 

_I am sorry I failed you again._

* * *

In his life, he never had a fond memory of his father. All his life, he never knew him. He lived across the street with Aunt Kat and Uncle Peeta. They were nice people, they took him in when his father - _disowned_ him. They never had a conversation once. The only time they interact is when he chases him out of his house for the first few years. After a while everyone gave up and he learnt to avoid his father altogether.

* * *

_#1601_

_It is his birthday today. I wish you could see him now. He has grown so much._

_Katniss says he likes to write. He gets that from you, you know. He has been learning how to hunt too. He is good._

_I gave some money to Katniss so that she could get him a new pair of boots._

* * *

He never knew his father wrote.

He never knew his father asks about him.

He never knew his father bought him birthday presents.

He never knew he cared at all.

 

Flipping a few pages on, he felt something in between the pages.

It was a piece of paper stuck between posts. Opening it, he recognized his name on the corner of the page.

It was his essay from school.

* * *

_#1681_

_He won a writing competition in school today. Peeta says he wants to be a writer when he grows up._

_I got a copy of his essay. He writes beautifully. You should read it._

* * *

Reading on, he realized most of the posts were about him.

It was like he was reading his whole life through his father's words. It was all mostly about him till his 18th birthday, when he left 12 to study in 2. After that, he only came across occasional posts where he assumed was when he called or wrote back to Aunt Kat and Uncle Peeta or when he visits during Christmas and New Year.

 

He is 25 now. His father passed two years ago. Brain aneurysm. No one knew till Uncle Peeta found him cold on the couch when he brought him breakfast in the morning.

 

He didn’t cry when he received the call from Uncle Peeta. He didn’t cry when he came back for his funeral. He didn’t cry when he listened to the little speech made during the funeral. He didn’t cry when he watched them lower his coffin into the ground. He didn’t cry at all.

 

He didn’t know this man. All he knew was that he had his blood. He knew his mother loved him. He knew he played a part in the war. He knew he was a drunk. He never knew him. They never got to know each other.

 

He wasn’t one to cry but the page he was on was wet because now he knew. He knew he loved his mother too. He knew he was more than just a drunk. He knew he cared about him. He knew deep down his father loved him too. There was so much more he wanted to know.

 

So he packed all the boxes and brought them home.

* * *

It took him months to finally go through each and every post in all his father's diaries. He got to the final page one morning. That was it. It was the end of his father's life. One day he was alive and the next he wasn’t.

 

He stood in his study, staring down at all the boxes filled with books.

 

It was the memories of two lives lived separately.

Two completely different people who fell in love. Who never had a chance to have a life together. Who loved him in their own ways. Who made him who he is today. _Who he wanted to believe were together now._

 

There are many things he wished he remembered. There are many things he wished were different. Maybe in another time. Where his father wasn’t broken. His mother would be alive, they would be together and he would be happy. But there is no point dwelling upon _if thens_ because fairytales don’t exist. Even if they did, he wouldn’t want to know either.

 

_That was their story. It was his fairytale._


	12. Senses

 

** Effie **

__

_ They said our sense of smell is the first to go. Followed by our sense of taste, our sense of sight begins to dim. As our systems slowly shut down from the shock, we lose our sense of touch too. Until all that is left is our sense of hearing. After that it is only seconds before we lose everything. _

It is amazing the things you learn after being an escort for so many years. The amount of death you experience each year. It messes with your head. Sometimes you wonder what it feels like - to die, to feel your life slowly slip away, does it hurt?

You wonder if there is life after death. You wonder if it is you who are causing these deaths. Because, yes, you are part of it, you pick  ~~ people ~~ children from their seemingly peaceful lives and prepare them for slaughter. And none of them you have picked has managed to escape their fate. You see children from other districts emerge victorious, damaged but alive. You wonder if you are the reason yours were dead. Of course it is your fault.

There are things you learn after being an escort for so many years. Things you learn from being around death all the time. You know it only takes minutes for one to die of blood loss. If a major artery is involved the time shortens.

You know death from starvation lasts the longest. The body slowly sees the effects from the lack of food after the first few days. If you don't manage to find water, dehydration sets in by day three if you are lucky enough to not be in the sun all the time. It messes with your brain. You start hallucinating. On the fifth or sixth day, if you are strong enough to last that long, your body starts to shut down. You will try to stay awake for as long as you can. You will try to stay alive with whatever you can find. Leaves, twigs, even your clothes. Trying to squeeze out every last drop of water with your weak hands. Suckling on your dirty clothes. Seconds feel like hours, minutes feel like days. And finally your brain will force you to fall asleep. Your body's last self-preservation mechanism. But you will never know that you can never wake up again.

Death by poisoning is much faster. From the time you ingest the poison, depending on its effects, it could take minutes or hours but no one will survive the day.

And then there is death by drowning. You hold your breath as long as you can, flailing your arms trying to bring yourself above water. Then you stop trying cause you realise the arms holding your head down are too strong. Then the desperation sets in. Your brain working in overdrive to try to stay alive. You slowly run out of air. You feel like you have been down here for hours. Just a little more until your lungs burn, you feel cold and slightly light headed. You can't keep your eyes closed anymore because it is just your natural reflex. The cold water burning your eyes. Just a little more. And you simply give up, accepting your fate, you inhale.

The coldness fill your lungs and airways. You start to choke forcing more water to get in your body. It spreads throughout and it stings. Your eyes bulge out slightly from all the water rushing into your body and you lose consciousness.

Lastly, d eath by a shot through the brain is by far the fastest. If the angle in which the bullet enters the skull is appropriate, it will slice through the brain and the victim will be dead within a fraction of a second. No pain no suffering, just dead.

Sometimes you wonder how you will die.

* * *

I have been counting the days since I have been here. I used to have an amazing body clock. But they have been messing with my brain till I have lost track of time around the second week. It must have been a week or two since then. I couldn’t really tell. There were the days when I would be forced to stay awake for hours straight. If I closed my eyes for more than three seconds they would thrust my head into the tub right in front of me until I was choking and pull me back up. It would continue for hours until they finally throw me back into my cell. Then there were days when they try to drug me so that I was in a constant state of hallucinations.

But those days were over. This time they were trying something new. During the first two "treatments", they used to feed me every day. But now they were trying something new. They are either trying to starve me into submission or they have decided that I have no use to them anymore. I figured that when the last plate of food was about three days ago. They don’t take me out of my cell anymore. My body can take starvation, years of modelling has taught me that. I know how long my body can go without food. Although I cannot say the same about water. My lips were chapped. My throat dry. I know a day or two from now I would probably start burning up and my body would start shutting down.

_ Maybe this is how I am going to die. _ I thought as I lay on the cold concrete, curled up in a corner, the empty food tray lay right in front of me.

I stared at the empty plastic bottle till I finally fell asleep. 

* * *

 

I had the most wonderful dream. The most cruel of dreams because I know I can never have what is in it. He was all the same in my dream. Crude. Insufferable. Annoying. But in it, he was mine and it makes all of this worth it. He is the one thing I am holding on to. I want to have the amazing life I have imagined for us but I also know that in order for us to win every piece of the puzzle should be in place and mine is here. I wanted to force my body back to sleep, to go back to my dream just to hear what he had to say because even though he has never and will never say it in this life, I am so sure that _ that  _ was what he was trying to tell me in my dream. But even with the dizziness, I just could not fall asleep.

In it, I was cooking in _ our  _ kitchen. There were pastel yellow curtains along the windows which were overlooking our garden. There were flowers blooming in the bushes in front of the fence. Something was burning. I looked down to the pan I was holding to see the french toast burnt on one side. _ Hey _ .  I heard and I was enveloped in his strong arms with his nose nuzzling my neck. _Good Morning._ I said, leaning into his embrace. _ Burnt toast again? _ He chuckled as I elbowed him in the chest. _ It's french toast. I am trying something new. I will make another batch.  _ I walked over to the bin to empty the pan. _ How about trying not to burn toast first? _ He leaned against the counter as he watch me place a fresh piece of french toast in the pan. _ I hate you. _ I scrunched my nose at him. _ I- _

And I woke up.

It was the banging and the shouting.

It took a while for my mind to register it. But as I lay awake for a while, getting my vision to focus and my mind to clear, I heard it. I felt it too. The ground was vibrating beneath me and it was not one of my hallucinations. There was some banging and shouting from a far and it seemed to be getting nearer. 

* * *

 

_ They said our sense of smell is the first to go. Followed by our sense of taste, our sense of sight begins to dim. As our systems slowly shut down from the shock, we lose our sense of touch too. Until all that is left is our sense of hearing. After that it is only seconds before we lose everything. _

As moments passed, I saw the smoke getting thicker and thicker until I couldn’t see beyond the bars of my cell. There were shadows moving around, then there were gunshots. There were more shouting and I heard it. His voice echoing through the corridor. Then I heard my name.

I felt my eyes well up yet there were no tears. I saw a shadow approaching, one that I immediately recognize.

It wasn’t him.

The shadow stood in front of me cell and a gunshot rang out .

I felt my body hit the wall behind me and warmness spread below my chest. I lifted my hand to touch the area and looked down. Wet and red. Then I felt the pain. Like fire burning through my flesh.

A few more gunshots. And I looked up. The shadow was gone. This time I saw his face in front of me .  _ Effie. _ He said rushing towards me. _ Haymitch _ _._ I tried to say yet all that came out was a cough. _ Fuck. Damn it, Effie. _ The next thing I know, he had his shirt off, pressing it against my wound as he tried to pick me up.

_ Look at me _ _._ He said. He has such beautiful eyes. I wish he knew that .  So haunted yet beautiful. _ Focus on me _ . He has such great lips too. But they looked so chapped now .  _ Can you hear me? Stay with me. Focus on my voice _ _._ That beard. He needs to get it off his face. It looks disgusting. Definitely no kissing with that on.

It felt cold. Like it dropped ten degrees. I shivered against his chest. My teeth chattering. Everything hurts. I am so tired. _ Hey sweetheart. _ I heard him say. He looked blurry now. Was there something in my eye? I blinked a few times. _You are going to be fine_.  He said in the softest voice. I smiled.

I felt my lids getting heavier and heavier. Then everything faded to black. I could still feel his arms around me. His lips against mine. His voice telling me to hold on. I felt the pain fade away, the pressure against my chest lifted, his arms loosened, I tasted him for the last time and his lips gone. He was still here with me. I could hear him. His voice sobbing. And I heard two words before he got cut off.

_ I love you too. _ I thought.

_ They said our sense of hearing is the last to go. _

 


	13. The Last Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II of Senses written from Haymitch's POV. Enjoy!

**Haymitch**

_You never think of the stuff that you don’t know._

_Like you never knew how long it takes for someone to bleed out._

_Or like you have never thought about the concept of death._

_You never know the last time is going to be the last time._

 

The last time you saw your father was before he left for work after your usual hunting trip. He gathered you in his arms and whispered the same words "be good" in your ears before kissing you on the cheek. 

You never knew that that morning would be your last hunting trip together. You never knew that it would be your last hug, last kiss and the last words you would ever hear from him.

You woke up the next day to your mother's crying. _You never knew._

* * *

 

_You never think about how one can bear to kill another human being._

_You never think about how much it hurts to lose someone you love._

_You never know the last time is going to be the last time._

The last time you killed someone was in your games. You thought it would be like killing an animal but it wasn’t. You thought it would be easy but it wasn’t. It was just instinct. One moment he was on you and the next he was down. You pushed his body off yours and ran. You ran for what felt like hours till you couldn’t feel your feet anymore. Your hands were shaking for hours after. You thought the next time you killed it would be easier. _But it wasn’t._

 

The first time you heard, you couldn’t believe your ears. After all you have fought through to get home, it was all for nothing. Your family was gone. Your girlfriend was gone. All you have lived for was gone. You went home to nothing. There were no bodies, nothing left from the house, not even the knife your father left you. Nothing in this pristine house was yours. You thought dying would be the worst thing that could happen to you. You were wrong. _Living was._

* * *

_You never think about the things you couldn’t have._

_You never think about the family you never wanted._

_You never know about the little things until you realise they are gone._

It has been weeks since you have been here. People are always rushing you around to do things. Everything has a schedule. Everyone has a purpose. You have no time to think of anything else but to serve your own purpose here. You never realise how precious some things are until you lose them. Like alcohol, sleep and your favourite sweater. _Or that familiar scent of hers._

You are running out of time. You spent nearly two weeks in withdrawal. You spent the last week trying to convince Coin to launch a rescue mission. You spent the last two days finalising each detail of the plan. And now you are here, on board the hovercraft on the way into the Capitol. You are shaking not because of the withdrawal. _But of fear._

* * *

_You never think of how they died - the process of dying._

_You never think of how much it hurts._

 

The last time you saw Effie Trinket was in her room. The night before you left her. She was lying naked on her belly on the bed. The moonlight through the large window almost made her look like she was glowing. Her messy hair spread across the pillow, her face rid of all the gunk, her lips slightly swollen from all the kissing, the sheets tangled around her body, she looked almost too peaceful.

 

You never knew the last time would be the last time. The last time you made love to her, the last time you caressed her body, the last time you saw that smile, the last time you breathed in her intoxicating scent _. You never knew._

 

You never knew you would kill again until you did. You were shouting her name. There was a man in front of you. He let of a shot but it wasn’t meant for you. Out of reflex you fired several rounds towards his direction. Gut feel told you that he shot her. _You were right._

 

You never think you would find her lying here in a pool of her own blood. Through the layers of dirt on her skin you could see the scars. You held her in your arms telling her to hold on. She was so tiny you are scared that you might crush her. Her eyes were hazy. You took off your shirt and pressed it against the wound on her chest. You slowly lifted her up. She was coughing. Blood. _You know it is bad._

 

You made it out to the door. But the medics said she was too hurt. Too much damage, they should save those that they could first. You held her in your arms. Urging her to hold on. You screamed at the people around you to help her. But they shook their heads and moved on. _Hey Sweetheart._ You said. _You are going to be fine._

* * *

_You never think of the stuff that you don’t know._

_Like you never knew how long it takes for someone to bleed out._

It took eight minutes and twenty three seconds for Effie Trinket to bleed out.

 

_You never know the last time is going to be the last time. The last time you held her, the last time you kissed her or the first time you have ever said I love you would be the last time she would ever hear it._


	14. Of Meaningless Quarrels and Wasted Nights

He couldn’t remember how they got there. Her storming out of the room and his whiskey glass shattered beside him. It had to do with her pestering him about the sponsors _again._ He ignored her as usual. And she continued mumbling about the kids and things he didn’t bother listening. At one point he stood up to refill his glass and finally took in her entire outfit. She was all dressed up to head out. A party he presumed. Then her phone rang.

Finally some peace for his ears. _He thought._

Then he heard it. It was Seneca. And a wave of _-whatever-_ rose up within him. And all was history. He called her names. She said some nasty stuff and he threw them back at her. It was bad. It was a _very bad_ fight and considering the amount of quarrels they have on a daily basis. _That_ is saying something.

* * *

After she left, he went back to his room with his drink. Now, he was lying here in his bed thinking about how everything went to hell that evening. The residual anger was still radiating off his body. Too hot to be in the covers. It has got to be almost two in the morning now and he heard her come in about an hour ago.

Nights like this, he would be in her room doing what they usually do. He didn’t know what got into him earlier. What they had was just sex. So why was he so fed up about her seeing Seneca. But the idea of her with another guy just repelled him so much that he could barely stomach the thought _._ They never defined their relationship, but he had thought that they were exclusive.

_Another drink. That will do._

* * *

He just got back into bed with he heard his door open. With his hand on his knife, he looked over. With all the nights they have spent together, he could make out that it was her even with her silhouette. He threw his knife under the bedside table and waited.

She was drunk that much he could make out. She stumbled into his room barefooted, feeling her way with her arms. 

She slid into his bed, climbing on top of him. Her small frame barely covered his. Her wig was gone, her eyes hazy, her face looked bare and she was wearing her pyjamas. Gone was her usual warm and musky scent, he could smell the mixture of cocktails and alcohols on her. Definitely drunk.

"You are drunk." He frowned.

"Mm…" She snuggled closer and buried her head in his chest.

"You okay?" He asked. She wrapped her arms around his waist. He looked down to see her soft blonde hair covering her face and a pang of guilt hit him.

She mumbled something against his chest and looked up at him with her intoxicated eyes.

They stayed there staring at each other for a few moments before she untangled herself and sat up on the edge of his bed.

She sat there with her eyes closed for a while before standing up and leaving the room.

He laid there on his bed, thinking until the sleep consumed him at the crack of dawn.

* * *

The next afternoon when he finally got up for lunch she barely looked at him. She probably didn’t remember what happened last night. 

It was two days later when he overheard a conversation at a party that he knew that she broke up with Crane.

That night it was him who slid into her room, drunk, covering her body with his own and lying there till the next morning.


	15. Death

_Death. It changes you in ways you can never imagine._

_After being surrounded by death for quite a while, you will come to realise that the question is not who to kill but why you kill. People kill for all sorts of reasons - killing for food, killing for survival, killing for thrill and killing to instill fear._

_The act of killing itself consumes you. It changes you as a human being. For whatever reason you kill for. The adrenaline pumping through your veins when you realise the power you have against another living thing._

_But it is what happens next that matters. Especially when the high wears off._

* * *

I know how to kill and I have killed. It changes you. I don’t remember much of my childhood. Years of alcohol abuse does that to your brain. My very first memory was my dad and the woods. I don’t remember much of him but he taught me how to hunt.

Funny little thing - our memory. It can be triggered by our sensory inputs even when we least expect it.

The fresh smell of green in the air, the knife in my hand and the crunching of leaves in the distance. I used to love those trips before dawn, making our way to the woods. I have been there so many times that I don’t remember the exact route we took, I just let my legs do the work.

The very first time I killed was with him too. I was around ten. It was a rabbit trapped in the net he had set the day before. It was as still as it can be. I have seen him kill before but that day he grabbed my little hand and said, "It is time you learn." Sometimes I still wondered if he knew his time was coming because a week later he was killed.

I remember feeling the weight of the handle in my hand. Gripping it with my palm which barely covered the handle. Closing my eyes and thrusting the blade right through the net. I felt the blunt blade slice through muscle and hit bone. There was a cry and I opened my eyes.

Wedged between its hind legs and body was the knife. It was injured but not dead. "Always go for a kill shot. That way they don’t feel any pain." He twisted the knife and pulled it out. "And always sharpen your knife." he wiped off the blade and passed me another one. A sharper knife.

Blood was staining its grey fur. "Try again. Right here." He said pointing between its neck and body.

"Why do we hunt, Dad? Why do they have to die?" I remember asking while walking home with the sack holding the limp body of the rabbit in my hands. He was quiet for a while before saying "To survive 'Mitch. To survive." We were quiet for the rest of the trip.

The guilt of killing another living being was overwhelming for a ten year old.

But a little over two weeks later, I found myself back in the woods, craving his presence with a knife in my hand and thought to myself "To survive Haymitch. To survive." as I held my second kill with tears streaming down my face.

* * *

 

_You would think that after hunting animals for so many years, killing another human being would be almost the same. But that is not true. Because they are not food, they are not my next meal which I have to get home so that my family wouldn’t starve to death, they are fighting for their lives just like I am. You never expect yourself to be capable of doing something like that to another human. But remember - kill or be killed._

_Death. It changes you in ways you can never imagine._

The first time I killed another human being was a blur. When your body is so tired so beaten up that everything was instinct. There was pain and blood and chaos and nothing. I don’t remember it. I don’t want to remember it.

* * *

 

_Death. It changes you in ways you can never imagine._

_Being around it all the time, you learn things. You learn why people kill and how people kill. You notice the slightest of things you don’t even realise you know._

She was strong despite her size. She was good with her axe. I have been observing every single one of them since the start. I was smarter, I was stronger. But I never realised that she was fast and her axe was even faster. It sliced through my abdomen like paper then I fell. Blood was all I could think of. Her axe was not far behind me. She was running right towards me for her weapon and I ran. _I am going to die._ I thought.

How I managed to get back to the cliff was a miracle. I turned back to see her coming at me with her axe again. She threw her axe again and I dodged it. It barely missed my head by a few centimetres and fell down the cliff. And I waited as I felt all the blood draining from my body.

 _It wouldn’t take long for me to bleed to death_. I thought _._ _If it only took less than a few minutes to drain a turkey of its blood. I wouldn’t last through the hour._

  
Then it happened.

One moment she was standing in front of me. The next she had her axe buried in her skull and she was down by my next blink.

A canon rang and everything went black.

 

_The notion of dying changes people too. Only when you have experienced both. You will realise another reason to kill. To kill for revenge._

_Death. It changes you in ways you can never imagine._

 


	16. The woman in those diaries.

He never meant to intrude. Those diaries bore no dates, no names and no signature. Whoever wrote them definitely didn’t want them found or traced back to its owner. He would never have known its author if not for the pile of gold rimmed diaries on top. They bore the same handwriting - _her handwriting._

_Her hand that wrote of hope, love and passion, riddled pages with pain, suffering and torture._

* * *

"I close my eyes and I feel his weight crushing my body, his hands around my throat, his legs nudging mine.

I open my eyes gasping for air, clawing at the sheets, drenched in sweat.

I lay awake with my lights on in every corner of my house because I am sure he is here.

The sheets shifting against my body were his hands running up my legs, the sound of the clock ticking resembles his footsteps, the shadow of the flickering candle flame was him crossing the room.

So I lay awake waiting for him to come back.

It has been three years. I am sure he is coming.

But he wouldn’t because he said I was getting too old for his taste. "

* * *

Those diaries wrote of darkness, turmoil and secrets.

The woman in those diaries held secrets no one should ever know, went through a life no one should ever have to go through, fought battles he would never imagine were real.

_They were his nightmares come true._

* * *

"And I thought his ghost was the worst.

Now I close my eyes and I hear them screaming.

I hear them begging. Because it is not just the ones I couldn’t save. There were the ones that I almost picked.

The music were drowned by their voices and so I tried to drown them with my own.

Then it became too noisy and they thought I was crazy.

And now another nightmare haunts me."

* * *

He could never imagine the strength she had in her to get through the things she wrote about.

It read like a novel, one he'd never believe is true. But those were her diaries. Each page searing a scene in his brain. Making him clench the book a little tighter, feel a little bit hotter and read a little faster.

_A part of him wanted to look away and another wanted to know._

* * *

"If whatever Grandpa taught was true, then this is what I should do.

It hurts too much to leave them but I bet it would hurt more to watch them die.

It is not how much I know that makes me useful but how much they think I know that makes me qualified.

Because Grandpa once said even in darkness I could be his light." 

* * *

_My little light._ He remembered her saying in her gentle voice. Even though those memories in the gold rimmed diaries read of another life he didn’t know was his. He remembered this.

He didn’t recognise the woman in those diaries.

_Apparently, she was the one who held him together. But in them she broke apart._

* * *

So as he closed the last of them he realised the blotches on the pages were coupled with new ones.

_Because even though he didn’t know the woman in those diaries, he now knew her story._

_Remember the woman in those diaries?_


	17. With love, Effie

_To all my readers: Do you guys like the depressing theme which my stories are mostly based around? Not that I am going to change what I write anytime soon because tbh I cannot write fluff for the life of me. I am just curious as to whether people actually like what I am writing. I know most people read and never leave reviews (that used to be me too) but I really want to know your opinion on my work. So if you decide to leave a comment, thank you! xxx_

* * *

_In a perfect world, she probably wouldn’t be here. But this isn't a perfect world and they aren't perfect people._

It's late. In every sense of the word. The sky is dark outside, I can see buildings glowing with light through my window. I can see the bustling city minus the noise from up here. The occasional hum of a car passing by my building is kind of soothing. I am still not accustomed to complete silence but I hate noise.

Well… You should probably know that I have had a couple of drinks before this. So not everything makes sense. It has been two years. Two freaking years since I have been back.  So much has changed. Did you know that my favourite café reopened a year ago but my favourite barista wasn’t there anymore? Did you know that the bar that you used to pass out in no longer exists? Did you know that I sometimes look out of my window expecting to see the Training Centre at the heart of the city just to see an empty spot which they are just starting to rebuild? Did you know up till a year ago I was still hoping that you would call?

There were the days when I drank because it reminded me of you. There were the days when I picked up the phone thinking that you rang. There were the days when I resented you for not trying harder. Then there were days when I resented myself for letting myself fall in love with you. There were days but today isn't one of them.

Today I am writing to you because I want you to know that I am healing and I hope that you are too. A step towards recovery. Annie says. It has been too long. Too long to hold a grudge against everything that has happened. I'd like to apologise for leaving the way I left. I said many things I shouldn’t but in my defense you did too.

The way we loved. The way we lusted. It was destructive. We both needed each other but we didn’t have anything to give. It wasn’t our fault because we were both broken. It was just bad timing. I shouldn’t have blamed you for that. We were two broken souls seeking comfort in each other. We gave each other what we thought we needed most but it didn’t work that way. We can't choose who we fall in love with but we could have changed the way we loved.

I don’t regret my decision to leave. The way we were together, the amount we fought, it was detrimental to the both of us and someone had to walk away. And I am glad I did. You deserve to have someone love you the way you want to be loved. I needed to learn to stand on my own. We both needed time to heal.

I hope this finds you well. Because despite everything that has happened to us, I hate to say that I still love you. Thank you for being there in the darkest of times. It probably wasn't a good time for us but there never was a good time. Maybe this is it. That love isn't enough.

I should visit someday. Not so soon but someday I will. I miss the children. I miss you.

I'd like to think that this is probably the way everything is supposed to be, where we end up where we started.

I know you don’t celebrate but nevertheless, Happy Birthday.

 

With love,

E

 


	18. Hypothetically

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story that I have been wanting to write for a very long time. It is a happy one, I hope you enjoy it. x  
> Comment, review, leave a kudos and check out my other stories! Thank you~

Grocery shopping has been one of the things he had grown to like since she moved in.

 

He remembered the first time she went grocery shopping alone after declaring that his house needed a makeover. She picked up a ton of stuff from food and cutlery to cleaning supplies and sanitary items. She spent the whole afternoon at the store, only to realise after paying the bill \- _with his card_ \-  that she could not possibly carry all the stuff she bought back herself. And so she called him to pick her up at the store.

 

Thereafter, she would drag him to the store every time she went grocery shopping. Needless to say he wasn’t keen at first. But soon it became a routine. It was their "thing" every two weeks to go to the market for a brunch before heading to the store. It felt nice to have a day out once in a while, since he was never one to venture out of the house if it wasn’t necessary. The shopping wasn’t half bad either. He gets to choose what he wants to eat without Effie selectively "omitting" or finding alternatives for all the junk food he wants when she went alone.

* * *

So now, he finds himself  once again at the aisle with all the junk food that Effie refuses to eat while she looked at vegetables in the fresh produce section. Chips… crackers… biscuits… sweets…

 

Despite all the talk about how junk food is not good for the body, Effie has never been one to be able to resist chocolate. Especially dark chocolate. Looking at the wide array of choices before him, he grabbed a few bags of chips and a bar of sea salt caramel dark chocolate that he knows she absolutely loves and threw them into the trolley before heading off to find her. As he was stepping out of the aisle, he heard a patter of footsteps and laughter approaching him. Before he knew it, something - or rather someone - collided with his trolley knocking the air out of him as the trolley then assaulted him in his middle.

 

"Oof!" Mentally swearing before looking down at the little boy on the ground.

 

"Watch where you are going kid! Are you okay?" Watching him rub his knee as a little girl and a slightly older teenage girl came running behind him.

 

"I am so sorry sir."  The older girl  apologised.

 

"Ryan, are you okay?" She asked as she pulled the boy up onto his feet.

 

"My knee hurts!" He complained, glaring at Haymitch.

 

"Ryan, it is rude to glare. Apologise."

 

"No!" The boy protested, pulling his hand away.

 

"Anna, I want ice cream now!" The little girl started whining.  They were slowly attracting the attention of other people in the store with all the noise they were making.

 

"Me too!" The boy declared before storming off.

 

"I am really sorry sir." The girl nodded apologetically before carrying the younger girl and chasing after the boy.

* * *

Rolling his eyes, he was about to continue to make his way to find Effie when he heard her voice from behind him.

 

"Hey, what happened?" She asked as she placed the stuff she got into the trolley.

 

"Nothing much. Just a boy running around the store and he bumped into the trolley." He explained.

 

"Was he hurt?"

 

"Seeing that he ran off, I don’t think so.  People really shouldn’t have children if they don’t have the time to look after them or actually make the effort to parent them." He sighed. 

 

"Well… we can't judge how others choose to parent their children." She replied as they made their way down the cleaning section.

 

"If you actually met him, you would have been appalled by his manners or the lack of it. Seeing how the two children were being taken care of by a babysitter, I would guess their parents don’t have much time to parent them. Unless the teenage girl was their mother, even then it would still be a lil fucked up." He argued as he watched her browse through the various laundry detergents.

 

"Children go through phases, it is not always the parents fault you know. And you've only met them for like what, a minute or two? You don’t know their story." She countered, passing him a bottle of detergent.

 

"Yeah yeah. Why are we debating about this anyway."

 

"It is not a debate. Just a discussion." She pressed a kiss on his cheek.

* * *

They were almost done with their shopping as they approached the check-out area with a trolley overflowing with groceries.

 

"Have you ever thought of it?" She asked as they slowly unloaded the things on to the counter.

 

"Thought of what?"

 

"Having children."

 

"No." He offered without hesitation, seeing the light in her eyes dim a little.

 

"Why?" She looked a little disappointed.

 

"I just don’t want children. My child would probably end up like the little boy."

 

"I actually think you will be an excellent father."

 

"Who cares anyway." He brushed her off before the conversation continues down the slippery slope which would leave the both of them feeling frustrated. He took out his wallet for the bill as she slowly loaded their bags into the trolley.

* * *

The ride home was quiet. No doubt a result of their previous conversation. The usual fifteen-minute journey felt painfully long. He gave up trying to start a conversation since she seemed uninterested and distracted. Times like this he knew to give her space. They would probably argue again later and it would lead to amazing make up sex somewhere in the house.

 

They finally arrived home and she got out of the car to open the door as he unloaded their groceries.

 

They managed to get everything into the kitchen and they started unpacking their bags. He would take things out and she would arrange them in accordingly. This motion felt awfully awkward in silence and he couldn’t take it anymore.

 

"What's the matter with you? You have been sulking since the store."

 

"Nothing. I am not sulking."

 

"Oh yes you are. Is this about the stupid thing I said just now about kids? It was nothing! You should just forget about it already."

 

She ignored him as she continued to unpack the groceries.

 

"This is ridiculous. Why are we fighting about hypothetical children anyway? Can we just get over it and move on to the making up part?" He softened as he moved over closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, stopping her from arranging the groceries on the shelf.

 

He felt her inhaling deeply before relaxing in his arms. He thought that was the part when they start making out like teenagers in the kitchen. But what she whispered next had him frozen on the spot.

 

"Because they are not hypothetical anymore."


	19. His little quirks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little idea that popped into my head. I hope you enjoy it! ^^ Review if you can as always! xx

 

_You get used to little things like that when you spend almost every day of your life with someone. You pick up their little habits and then some. Their little quirks. Like how he leaves toothpaste in the sink and you will rinse it down for the both of you. How he likes to start his day with something savoury rather than sweet. But he knows you like pancakes so he eats them with sausages on the side. Or how he doesn't like to shave. At first you thought it was because of the hand tremors he used to have but you suspect long after they stopped that he just likes having you shave for him._

There was one that Effie had noticed for the longest time but still have no idea why he does that. She woke up to the same today. One arm over her chest and the other holding on to her wrist. It wasn't just while she sleeps. It was while they are out shopping together, curled up on the couch watching television or even making love to each other. Sometimes she would wriggle her wrist free to interlace her fingers with his but eventually his hand would find its way back to her wrist.

* * *

They spent the whole day out helping in the bakery. Business bustling as usual and with the new series of festive treats being brought out there was almost no time to rest during the day. Even with Haymitch helping out at the store, it is probably time to consider hiring another helper with the growing business. She almost never see Peeta until the end of the day anymore. He spends the entire day in the kitchen baking, that boy works too hard. Maybe she should bring up the hiring thing at dinner tomorrow.

* * *

After a long day in the bakery, they finally got a chance to relax on the couch with her favourite show on. It was her favourite part of every Friday night. Both of them getting comfy in their sleepwear and watching tv. Well... she watched while he falls asleep halfway through the show. His arms were tucked below hers, his hands holding onto her wrists which were laying on her torso, her left leg sandwiched between his. Both of them lying on their sides. His nose buried in her hair, his breathing getting slower as the show went into its second ad break.

"You still awake?" She asked, nudging him with her elbow.

"Yeah." He mumbled into her hair as he slid down to a more comfortable position.

"Yeah you are." She chuckled.

She tried to wriggle free to get up for a drink but his hands tightened its grip on her wrists as she moved. She smiled. _Child._

Prying his arms off her body, she picked up her mug and made her way to the kitchen for a refill. She looked at his peaceful form as she placed her filled mug back on the coffee table. He must have heard her when he opened one eye groggily and gestured for her to come back to the couch.

Effie settled on the floor instead, her arm cushioning her head on the couch while she watched him sleep. Matching her breathing with his, she traced his features with her eyes. The evidence of time carved across his face. The story of the nicked eyebrow and the broken jaw. The little smile lines forming and the wrinkles on his forehead. Evidence of a lifetime worth of memories together.

He opened his eyes again, this time, he caught her wrist and pulled her up onto the couch with him until her chest was pressed against his. "Sleep." He said wrapping one arm around her, leaving the other still on her wrist.

Looking down, she decided that maybe in his state of grogginess he might tell her the reason behind his wrist holding.

And so she asked the question. "Why do you like holding my wrists so much?" She whispered.

"Hm?"

"My wrists. Why do you like holding them so much?" She pushed.

"Your h-" He whispered something incoherently.

"What?"

He mumbled with his eyes still closed and what she made out from his words had her right hand closing on his wrist as she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

That night, she fell asleep with his pulse on her fingertips reminding her that they were both alive.

The television was still on when she woke up the next morning in his embrace.

* * *

_You get used to little things like that when you spend almost every day of your life with someone. You pick up their little habits and then some. Their little quirks. Like how he will somehow lose his socks through his sleep and tuck his feet under your legs. Or how he likes to wrap himself in the blanket no matter how hot it was and then whine that it is too hot to fall asleep. Or how he holds your wrists whenever he can because the rhythmic beatings of your heart calms him._

_These are the little quirks you will never get tired of._


	20. Their Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone~ I am back. It has been a hectic month with all my assignments and exams. Now that that's over, I am finally back to writing. This fic has been sitting my my list for a while and I finally got a chance to finish it. It doesn't really involve Haymitch. So if you are here for Hayffie, you can skip this chapter. But if you are interested, it is about Effie dealing with the bodies of the tributes. The conversation at the end was what made this chapter for me. Hope you enjoy it!~ xxx

Her heels were left by the couch, her feet feeling the soft carpet through her leggings. The wine glass balanced on the armrest by her side, the stem wedged between her fingers and her palm on its base to stable it as she stared at the lipstick stain on the glass. Soft music playing in the background, as she studied the stain mindlessly. The shade of blue looks almost poisonous. _Who invented lipsticks? Why don’t we wear them anywhere else on our body? Is there any functionality to it other than putting colour on our faces?_ Her mind wandered off as the effects of alcohol slowly took over.

Today wasn’t a good day. Today was the same day every year when she gets to send the crates which contains the bodies or whatever remained of the bodies of her tributes back to Twelve. She would watch as they unload them onto the platform as their families waited with red eyes and stained cheeks. Sometimes there wouldn’t be anyone there waiting because the families just couldn’t accept the fact that their child was dead. She would approach them as she announced the names of _~~her tributes~~ their children_ one last time as she offered her condolences softly. She would watch as parents lunge themselves at the crates bawling their eyes out.

She closed her eyes replaying the scene from earlier. The mother of three with her two children huddled by her side, two little girls no older than ten. Their clothes stained with tears. As usual, she stood with Haymitch by her side as she announced the name of the girl first. No one came to claim the crate. Before she could announce the name of the boy, the trio were already by the second crate. She walked over offering a short speech about how brave he was and how it was such a pity that he didn’t win like how she was taught in Escort school before offering her condolences. _She was truly sorry._ The mother short her a look with her teary eyes before turning back to the crate. Effie fought back the lump in her throat before announcing in a cheery voice that she should be leaving on schedule. She headed back onto the train. She watched the scene through the window as she poured herself a drink. The peacekeepers prying the mother away from the crate as they carried the bodies away. Haymitch following behind as they slowly trickled out of the platform.

* * *

Now here she was leaning against the side of the couch nursing a glass of white. There was a half empty glass left, an empty wine bottle and another one half empty left on the table. She heard a flush and the bathroom door click as Portia came walking back to her seat beside her. She picked up her glass and took a sip, making a face before saying, "This wine is warm. Don’t you have an ice bucket or something?"

"I ran out of ice." Effie mumbled, taking a sip from her own glass. The warm wine leaving a weird aftertaste on her tongue. "Care for something stronger?"

"Yeah, as long as it's not warm white wine." Portia replied as she pulled her legs onto the couch.

Effie got up and stumbled over to her liquor cabinet. The assortment of wines and spirits displayed before her. Taking a look across the shelf, she picked her poison - vodka. She placed the bottle down on the coffee table before taking two glasses out from the drawer.

"You are gonna drink that straight up?" Portia asked.

"I have some juice if you want."

"Yes please. I'd rather drink warm wine than neat vodka."

Trudging into the kitchen, she grabbed a carton of cranberry juice from her fridge and made her way back to the couch. Setting the carton down beside the bottle of vodka, she made a glass for the both of them.

"You know we have never met before today." Effie said after downing her glass and pouring another without juice. "Before today she was a mother of three children. Today I got to speak to her for the first time and now she is a mother of two. In her story, I will always be the woman who killed her child." Portia nodded, finally catching up to what she was talking about.

"That’s the job." Portia replied as she took a sip from her glass while Effie leaned her head against her shoulder. "You are not alone. I prepare them for slaughter too you know."

"Ten years. And that’s me as a murderer in twenty stories and probably more. How do you deal with that? How do you- cope?" Effie asked. The vodka burning her throat. It felt painfully good.

"We just have to." Portia sighed.

"I don’t know if I can do it any longer. It is so tiring to pretend all the time."

"This day, this day when you feel helpless. This day makes all the other days when we fight to win this war worth it." Portia turned and held Effie up by her shoulders. "This feeling that you are feeling right now. Remember it. This is why we do what we do. We do our jobs and we play our roles as escorts, gamemakers, mentors and stylists. Although we may never be able to rewrite those stories, when we win this - " She looked into her eyes and paused.

"When we win this war, we can rewrite our own and a lot others."


	21. Living in the After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am fulfilling my urge to write a Crowen fanfic here. Because even though I love Crowen, I just can't find the inspiration to write a decent fanfic. So I am doing a Grey's or rather Crowen-inspired AU for Hayffie. Completely forgot that I wrote this and haven't posted it here. So here you go~

She slowly approached him from behind as she watched him make his way back home with two bottles in his hands. He was swaying so much that she was surprised he hasn’t tripped over his own foot yet. And then he almost did when she caught up to him and held him up.

"Hey are you okay?" The phrase bringing up a memory she held dearly. A memory of a boy, the same boy she was trying her best to hold up right now. She haven't had the courage to approach him until now.

_Every day since he got back, she would knock on his door, hoping he would open it. It has been days of her sneaking into the Victor's Village after school and he still hasn’t responded. Until this morning. She knocked and waited with no avail. She sat outside on his porch as always, waiting. About ten minutes later, she heard the door click and out stumbled Haymitch. He reeked of alcohol, his hair messy and dirty, his clothes looked like they should have been washed a week ago. She stood up immediately half expecting him to acknowledge her, instead he walked past her and headed straight out. She followed him quietly as he made his way to the Hob._

Which brings her back here with her holding him up with all her strength.

"I am fine. Thank you -" He stared at her for a moment, almost looking like he was trying to place a name to her face or maybe he was just waiting for her to finish the sentence for him.

"Euphemia." She said.

"Ah, thank you Effie." He replied half-heartedly before pulling her hands off him and continued walking.

"My name is Euphemia. Eu-phe-mia!" She exclaimed, enunciating every syllable. Angered bubbled within her. _After days of ignorance and he forgot her name?! How dare he!_

"Effie?!?!" She almost screamed as he continued walking as if nothing happened.

"What? Sweetheart, my name is Haymitch." He turned to look at her.

"Seriously, you really don’t remember me?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at the people walking past them and brought her gaze back to him.

His eyes softened for a moment before he pulled her away into a less crowded corner and said, "I remember you. But that was before… When I was there…" He paused.

"When I was in there, there were 48 of us and 47 died. I fought to be alive. I watched people die by my hands. I came back and my family is gone. And now I am here." His breathing getting heavier as he explained. "I am not there anymore. Before, I was the guy who help bandage your knee after you fell. And I knew you in the before. I knew your name in the before. Now, I am living in the after." He gave her another glance over before walking away.

* * *

It was a kiss she wouldn’t forget. He was there, in the flesh, right in front of her. She had been dreaming of meeting him since the day she saw him walking past her parents' store for the first time. He was different and she knew it. She watched him walk past the store every day, some days alone, some days with his younger brother, some days with his parents. She watch him grow up through the glass windows of her parents' fabric store and she grew up along with him.

They went to different schools so they never met. Her parents were very strict so she never got a chance to mingle with other kids from different social circles. But all her friends knew about the boy on the other side of the window from the doodles on her books. She dreamt of their first encounters countless of times, but she never imagined it would be like this.

_She was making her way down to the square with her parents when she tripped. A small gash on her knee, leaving a trail of blood down her leg. That was when his face came into view, rendering her speechless._

_"Hey are you okay?" He asked._

_"Erm… yeah." She stuttered._

_"You are bleeding."_

_"I fell." She said slightly embarrassed ._

_"_ _Yeah, I saw that." He smirked as he took out a handkerchief and started bandaging her knee._

_"Thank you." She said shyly._

_"My mum gave me this handkerchief for good luck you know? But I guess you need it more than me now."_

_"Sorry, I will return it when I get a chance to."_

_"We shall see if you get the chance to after today." He replied as he pulled her up to her feet._

_"Bye." He said as he walked off with his brother. Leaving her once again speechless as she looked at them walking away. In that moment she realised she still didn’t know his name._

_She stood quietly amongst the crowd. Shaking. Almost everyone was. There was something different about the air. Still. Dreadful. This was her first Reaping - a Quarter Quell. She always imagined how it was like to have your life determined by someone's hand in a bowl filled with paper slips. You would imagine the odds to be quite in your favour when the piece of paper with your name on it is surrounded by hundreds of others. Names of people who were standing around you right now. The girl beside you could be picked next. Or your sitting buddy in school. Or the girl who always came in with her mother to the store._

_Since she could remember, she never knew anyone who was reaped in the previous years. This year four names were going to be picked. Deep breaths Euphemia. Shutting her eyes as the lady on the stage started picking the names of this year's tributes. It was so silent that you could hear the sharp intakes of breaths as the first name was announced. She was somebody's somebody. A friend, a sister, a daughter. The announcer called out the name again and a series of shuffling followed. Steps that sounded louder than ever and she saw a little girl walk up the stage. She couldn’t be much older than herself._

_This repeated twice until they got to the last name. A little shuffling and she saw a familiar face come into view. The guy on the other side of the window. The same guy whose lucky handkerchief was now on her knee. Haymitch Abernathy. That is his name. She got to get the handkerchief back to him. Oh my god. She took it away from him and now he was going into the games._

_She made it into the room when his mother saw that she had his handkerchief. She barely had time to take it off and clean it slightly before she was in the room alone with him._

_"I am sorry." She said with tears in her eyes._

_"It is not your fault." He sighed._

_"I took your lucky handkerchief." She wiped her tears with her hand. "I never knew your name till today. I watched you pass by our store every day."_

_"Yeah it sucks. There is nothing we can do now. But maybe I can win this." He placed a hand on her shoulder and pulling her into an awkward hug. "Thank you for returning the handkerchief. And I still don’t know your name."_

_"Euphemia. Euphemia Trinket." She replied. "You can win this." Leaving a peck on his cheek before she left the room._

* * *

He set one bottle of alcohol down on his coffee table and opened the other. _Alcohol_. Another thing he discovered while living in the after.

_It was the first day of the Victory Tour. The touching and flirting was nothing new but the drinks they kept shoving in his face. He politely rejected the first few until some guy with blue hair basically shoved a straw in his mouth. He took a little sip. It tasted disgusting, it burned his throat. It tasted like soap and whatever fruit that was inside the drink. Then came another then another and another. Before he knew it, he felt a little dizzy and he body felt hot. He took off his jacket despite the little voice in his mind saying not to because his escort specifically ordered him not to mess with his outfit. In the midst of all this, he didn’t realize that he forgot the pain. But in that moment it just felt surprisingly good._

_The next morning he woke up in his room with a splitting headache with no memory of what went down the previous night. He remember laughing and doing something stupid and nothing else. That was when he realized what alcohol could do. It helped him forget the horrors of what happened in the arena. The blood, the screams and the faces he can never forget. So every night, he would willingly put on a suit and enjoy the party. He took every drink people offered until he would pass out because he just couldn’t deal with the nightmares anymore._

_You would think the difficult part was over since he got out alive. But every night, in his room, he relived it over and over and over again. He was a living reminder to himself of everything that transcended in the arena. Every time he closed his eyes, he could smell the blood, he could feel the knife in his hand, he could hear the screams. And alcohol helped him forget._

He touched the dirty handkerchief that was abandoned in the corner of his couch. And the side of his cheek where she kissed him. The little reminders of what it was like in the before. He took a large swig of alcohol from his bottle and tried to forget that he was living in the after.


	22. All I Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Severe PTSD, mentions of torture.  
> This story is very dark. It is a story that has been on my mind. But I haven't had the time to get into the zone to write this. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

_Darkness. Are my eyes open? Flash. Red. Something feels wet. Flash. Blood. Is it mine? Where is all this blood coming from? Flash. Screams. I think it's me. Flash._

"Hey." A muffled male voice said. _Something touched my hand. I can't move. If I move, they will hit me harder._

A gentle caress. _I can't move._ I forced my eyes open. It was so very bright. I blinked. Once. Twice. A face came into view. Him. His lips were moving. But I don’t hear a word . _He jammed something in my arm. It burns_ _._ The ceiling is so white . _White. Like the walls. The walls were white, just like the ground and the uniforms they wore._

He grabbed my hand and I tried to pull away. _Don’t. Please. Please don’t. Please. No. Please no._ I tried to crawl away but I was tied down on my back. _Please_. He tried to hold me. _No. Don’t touch me._

Another face came into view. A female. I felt a prick on my arm and I felt myself fading away. _Darkness_.

* * *

The same face came every day. He was there all the time. _It hurts. Everywhere. It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to be alive. Why don’t they just kill me already?_ Every time he tries to touch me I flinch. That continued for I don’t even know how long. Until I stopped resisting. _Numbness_. _My shoulder feels like it is not there anymore. They pulled me out by my hair and I stopped screaming. I stopped resisting._

He got them to take me my restraints off. I can move now. _I can't. They will hurt me._ Sometimes he just sits there. Sometimes he speaks. I think he speaks even when I am not looking. I don't know anymore. I was lost in my own thoughts. _My thoughts. They don’t make sense anymore. I think I still remember. I still remember… No I don’t._

I look out the window sometimes to see the faces floating by. They were looking at me. _They were all looking at me. Waiting to see who got to go first._ They were saying things. _Don’t_. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

I don’t remember the last time I spoke. What did my voice sound like? _I could hear myself screaming. My throat burns. It doesn’t sound like my voice anymore._

* * *

More people came today. The most I have seen. Seven of them speaking to each other. Maybe they were talking about me again. _They tied me down onto the table and stood on each side. And then it was hell. I remember a voice saying, if you scream, I am going to rip your tongue out._

He looked really agitated. He was shouting as he looked over at me. _I closed my eyes. I felt the blunt blade press into my skin. No screaming. I bit my lips till it drew blood, leaving a weird taste in my mouth._ My eyes followed him as he got everyone out of the room and sat down beside me.

He placed a hand on my cheek and said, "You. Are. Safe." The words came out in pieces. His voice still muffled but I could hear him now. He pulled me up into a hug. But I still couldn’t move. I might have forgotten how to.

* * *

It felt like weeks. Some days I tried to but I just couldn’t. He was sat next to me most of the time. Sometimes awake. Sometimes asleep. Sometimes he told me things. Sometimes we just stared at each other. Slowly the visits came less frequent.

One day he came in and dropped onto the chair as usual. He looked beyond tired. He scooted over right next to the bed and crossed his arms on the bed while he rested his head on them. He started stroking my face with one finger.

"Please. I need you. The doctors said there is nothing wrong with your ears so I know you can hear me. I know you are in there somewhere. Just give me an indication. Anything." He said gently. "The kids are messed up. I am messed up. And you are supposed to be the one to keep us sane. But you are messed up now too. Please Sweetheart. I need you." His finger stopped stroking and brought my hand up to his lips.

"Say something. Or blink. Or squeeze my hand." He begged. "Let me know I still have you."

I looked into his eyes and waited. The same eyes I fell in love with. I used to love him I think. I used to love him so much it hurt. But now I couldn’t feel anything.

I gave his hand a light squeeze.

I could almost see the tears forming in his eyes. He didn’t let them fall though. "Thank you." He said.

* * *

One step at a time. Day one was a light squeeze in his hand. Then the rest came easier. By the end of the week I could sit up. He would come in, sit for a while, sometimes help me wash up. He would comb through my hair and made sure I took my pills. He spoke and I listened. The irony. I used to talk and he listened. But that was another time. A lifetime worth of memories I couldn't remember. 

He came in today and told me that it was over. We won. The rebels won the war. That we wouldn’t be here for long. That he would be going back to Twelve after everything.

"I need you to start speaking up. They need to know you are still in there. They wouldn’t let me bring you back to Twelve with me. When this ends, they are going to send you to a facility. So just say something and prove to them that you are still here with us okay?" He said with one hand on mine.

"No." I tested. It came out nothing more than a whisper. My voice sounded foreign. His breath hitched and he held my hand tight.

"Effie." He whispered, pulling me into a tight hug. But I didn’t hug back.

"I -" I tried again and it came out a little louder. "I am. Not. Here anymore."

He kept quiet, waiting for me to go on.

"All I remember are pieces." I said softly. "Pieces of me. Pieces of before. I- I don’t think I am here anymore."

"It is okay. You will remember. Slowly. Eventually." He released me from his embrace as he held my face in his hands. "I can help you remember."

"I can't. I remember my cell. I remember them. I remember the blood. I remember the pain. I remember screaming for you but you weren't there." I spoke slowly as the memories poured in. I paused and closed my eyes. The scenes playing before me. All I want to is forget.

"I used to love you I think." I said.

He stilled as he heard the confession. His eyes searching. I looked at him and all I could feel was… Nothing. No love. No anger. No fear. No hate. I watched as he placed his hand hesitantly on my head. He watched, studying my face, waiting for my reaction. I didn’t react; I didn't flinch, I didn’t scream for him to get away from me, I didn’t cry. I just sat there watching him watching me. 

"It's okay. You are back now." He stroked my hair as he faltered. "Whatever you remember is okay." He paused as he slowly leaned in, testing, before placing his forehead on mine. The warmth of his breath against my face. _I would have liked this._ I thought. He brushed his dry lips against mine before whispering, "We will get through this."


	23. Christmas Presents: The Case of the Missing Ring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is almost Christmas, and I thought like last year, I had to write a Christmas fic. Related to last year's fics, so if you want read them, it's called Christmas Advent and Best Christmas Ever. They are chapter 2 and 6 of this collection respectively. I hope you enjoy this fic! ^^ Review if you can xx

It will be Christmas in a few days. The house was quiet with Effie out getting groceries for the dinner she was planning. They weren't a very festive family; apart from the usual gathering with the kids on Christmas day, they don’t do much. But he thought this year he would get her a present because she gave him one last year. The best gift he never wished for. 

 

He was in the kitchen making a drink, waiting for the kettle to boil. He took out the little black velvet pouch from his pocket and carefully slipped the ring within onto his palm. He had it custom made a few weeks ago after passing by a jewellery store. A simple silver band with the most intricate of carvings on its sides and an inscription on the inside. He ran his finger along the ring as he smiled to himself, proud of the gift got her.

* * *

 

The rattle from the living room snapped him out of his thoughts as he placed the ring back into the pouch and strode over. The gift Effie gave him last year was currently sitting in her pen trying to reach her toy which fell beyond her reach. Her futile attempts to get her toy were slowly turning into a cry. He walked over to retrieve the toy for the little one when he heard the kettle click. He made his way back to the kitchen to finish making his tea.

 

He was half way back to the living room with his mug in his hand when he heard her cry. He took no time setting his mug down and was by her pen for the second time that afternoon. His daughter who had seemingly lost interest in all her toys, had begun to fuss again. He picked her up from her pen and set her down on his lap as he settled on the sofa.

 

"Hey, what's wrong little one?" He said as bounced her on his lap. He grabbed a random toy and waved it in front of her. She took absolutely no interest in the toy as she started grabbing at his shirt with one hand and the other in her mouth. He stroked her soft short hair in awe as he sat watching her play in her own world.

 

"Do you want to see what I got Mummy for Christmas?" He asked as he held her up at eye level.  The little one giggled. 

 

Setting her back down again, he pulled out the pouch and then the ring. Intrigued by the shiny silver band in her father's hand, the little girl immediately tried to grab it with both hands.

 

"Do you think she will like it?" Haymitch said as he tried to pry the ring out of her hands.

 

It all happened so fast. One second he was trying to get the ring from her, the next her hands were in her mouth and the ring was gone. "Oh fuck." He could almost hear Effie scolding him. He immediately checked her mouth for the ring but it wasn’t there. She wasn’t crying, she wasn’t choking, if anything she was giggling. Without second thoughts, he grabbed his coat and wallet, wrapped her up and whizzed out of the door. 

* * *

It didn’t take long for them to reach the nearest emergency room. He did threaten the taxi driver once or twice. Out of breath, he explained to the receptionist in broken sentences what happened. Seeing that his daughter wasn’t vomiting, choking, crying or unconscious, she gave him a queue number and assured him that the doctor will be calling his number shortly.

 

After five minutes and many "why hasn’t my number been called yet"s later, he was finally in the consultation room. The doctor examined her and deemed her healthy and well, if she had indeed swallowed the ring she should pass it within these few days. Still Haymitch wasn’t satisfied. So the doctor suggested an X-Ray. And so a half hour later back in the room, he watched as the doctor examined the scan before frowning.

 

"What is it?" He pressed impatiently.

 

"Mr Abernathy, I don’t see the ring in the scan." The doctor explained.

 

"What?"

 

"It seems as though your daughter did not swallow the ring, unless she has passed it already, though I doubt that is the case."

 

Slightly embarrassed and still largely confused, he made his way back home with his daughter.

* * *

The sun was almost setting when he reached his front door with his daughter asleep in his arms. The ring must be still somewhere in the living room them, he thought. He needs to find it before Effie does. He opened the door softly and crept in. But before he could do anything, Effie was in front of him.

 

"Where did you go?" She demanded.

 

"Uh… We… we went out for a walk." He stuttered.

 

"Without the stroller or your phone? I came home to an empty house, your phone on the table and the door wasn’t locked. I was worried sick!" She cried. In his haste to get to the ER, he must have forgotten to lock the door. He mentally chided himself.

 

"Sorry. Well, I was kind of in a hurry to get out of the house." He apologised and tried to pull her into an awkward group hug with their daughter still in his arms.

 

"You have no idea how worried I was." She mumbled. Me too. He thought.

 

"I am sorry. There won't be a next time, I promise." He apologised again. "I should probably go put her in her crib." He added as he released Effie from his embrace.

* * *

He got into the nursery as fast as he could, he needed to get back down and find the ring. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard Effie call his name. He rushed to the living room as fast as he could to see her with one hand on her hip and the other holding something in her hand.

 

"What is this?" She asked with a slight smirk.

 

"Merry Christmas?"

 

He definitely got a lot of explaining to do. It was going to be a long evening.


	24. What if?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while since I posted. As a common theme in my stories, warnings for tragedy. xxx

The steady beeping of hospital equipment was somewhat comforting. Sitting in a dim hospital room with no idea what was happening, the rhythmic beatings of his heart calmed her. It was the only thing she was sure of.  _He is still alive._ She knew when to expect the next beep. The uncomfortable metal chair was making her back ache. She shifted a little to find a more comfortable position and hissed when she felt the cold metal against her skin. She stroked his hand softly as she studied his pale face.

She was a mess. Her eyes swollen from crying for the past hour, her natural hair down wearing nothing but his shirt from yesterday. His now blood-stained shirt. The nurse came over a few times to offer her a fresh set of clothes to change. But she rejected her every time. She refused to leave his side even for a minute, fearing that if she closes her eyes even for a second that she was going to lose him. In the end, the nurse left the pile of clothes by the foot of the bed and gave her a wet towel to clean off the dried blood on her hands.

_She woke up that morning to a crash. She groaned as she opened her eyes to a scene she would never forget. All the grogginess seemed to have dissipated in an instant. She never felt more scared in her entire life. Blood pouring out of his mouth as he called out her name. He steadied himself by the table as she rushed to his side._

_"Oh my god." Her hands trembled as she passed him a towel which was immediately stained red._

_"Effie." He coughed._

_"You are gonna be alright." She said in her most reassuring voice before dashing to the door and calling for help. "We are going to get you to the hospital. Can you walk?" She asked as she wrapped his arm her and grabbed him by his waist._

_It took two soldiers to carry him to the hospital wing. She followed closely behind in shock, her mind processing everything that just happened. "Everything is going to be okay." She tried to reassure herself as her body betrayed her. Her hands trembled, her legs threatening to give out as they slowly approach the hospital, tears free flowing down her face._

_They whizzed him away into an examination room and locked her out. A nurse came by and guided her to the waiting area. She collapsed onto the bench as she stared at her blood stained hands. Wet. Slick. Sticky._

The sound of the door opening brought her back from her thoughts. A young doctor came in with a file in his hand.

"Miss Trinket, may I speak to you outside?" He asked politely. His grim expression said as much.

"Liver failure." He sighed. "He needs a liver transplant but given his history and the current state of the districts, we can't put him on the list. He needs to be clean for more than a year and even if we find one, I can't guarantee we can do the surgery here. All our resources have been redirected to the Capitol to treat soldiers and victims. I am sorry."

Tears welled up within her eyes, threatening to spill as she took in everything the doctor had to say. "Test me. Test my blood. I can give him my liver." She said as she blinked her tears away. She took a deep breath before continuing. "Find him a liver and I will deal with the rest."

"Oh… okay. The nurse will be here to take your blood and we should have the results in a few hours."

* * *

After she got poked with a needle and drain of a vial of blood, she headed straight to Command. With the war over two days ago, everyone was everywhere arranging for the Capitol to be cleared and coordinating transfers of key personnel. No one seemed to notice the ragged woman standing by the door wearing nothing but a bloodstained shirt. Not until she bypassed everyone in the room and headed straight for Plutarch and Coin who were standing in a corner.

"I need to arrange for a transfer to the Capitol today." She stated, crossing her arms across her chest. Suddenly self-conscious, but the act gave her confidence.

"For who?" Plutarch asked before being cut off by Coin. "Miss Trinket, we can't transfer people as and when you like."

"Haymitch." She paused to collect herself before continuing. "He needs a liver transplant. The doctors in the hospital said they can't do it here. They are better equipped in the Capitol."

"I don't think you understand the current situation." Coin retorted coldly.

"I don't think  _you_ understand that I am not asking." Effie shot back. "He woke up today puking blood. He wouldn't survive without a liver transplant." She gestured to the blood on her shirt. "And I happen to know the current situation because I have been in this room for the past few weeks too. For the past two days,  _we_ have been clearing up the Capitol and we are expected to go in tomorrow. I just need him in there today."

"This." She waved. "Was simply courtesy. I can coordinate everything I need for the transfer."

"No." Coin replied with a glare. "We have doctors here who can treat him. He can wait another two days."

Plutarch put a hand on her shoulder before she could speak signalling that he will handle this and ushered her out of the room.

"I will talk to her," Plutarch spoke once they were out of the room. "How is he?"

"Unconscious." She replied with the urge to cry again. "The doctor said they can't put him on the transplant list because of his drinking. I had them test my blood to see if I am a match."

"He is tough. He will be fine." He said as he pulled her into a hug.

"I don't know. There was so much blood. And if we can't find a liver in time…" She choked as the dam broke once again.

"Go back to him. I will deal with Coin. You should have your transfer by tonight."

* * *

She decided to change out of her soiled shirt when she got back to his room. He was still unconscious. Not wanting to leave his side, she pulled off the shirt even though she knew everyone could see her through the window. She slipped the clean uniform on before planting a kiss on his lips and settling back into the chair. She could still smell his blood on her body and feel the thick red liquid on her hands. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the scene from that morning.

"I love you." She whispered as she ran her fingers through his hair. He looked so peaceful, she wondered if he was in any pain.

There were so many tubes and wires attached to him. She placed a hand on his chest as she felt the rise and fall of his breathing beneath her palm. She would do anything in her power to keep her family safe. As obnoxious, annoying and rude a person as he is, she knew it was all his armour to protect himself. She loved the man beneath all the walls he had set up to keep people at arm's length. She didn't know how to live in a world without him.

* * *

She must have dozed off at some point because she woke up to a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see the doctor offering her a comforting smile. Once again, they brought their conversation out on the hallway.

"We tested your blood and you are a match." Doctor Hadley, as his nametag says, said.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"But we cannot do the surgery."

"I know you don't have the resources. I am having him transferred to the Capitol tonight. We will do the surgery there."

"No. It's not that. Blood tests show you are a match but you are also pregnant."

"What?"

"Judging by the hCG levels in your blood I would say you are 8 weeks along."

She ran her hand through her hair as she took in the new information. So many thoughts flashed through her mind. She took a deep breath before asking, "Is there any way we can still do the transplant?"

"If we were to proceed, you would need an abortion." He offered solemnly.

"Okay." She breathed.  _I can't lose him._ "Schedule it then."

_Years later when she hears the same words uttered she wouldn't have to choose._

* * *

Doctor Hadley recommended that they have all the procedures done in the Capitol so they wouldn't have to risk moving her after the abortion. The better equipment in the Capitol also meant shorter recovery time which was better for both of them. Plutarch managed to get them a ride early that evening and Doctor Hadley was going to follow them through to coordinate the transplant and make sure everything went smoothly. The ride to the Capitol was uneventful and soon she found herself in the back of a truck on the way to the hospital. She watched as the scenery passed them by, lost in her own thoughts. The city she once lived in was no more. All that was left were pieces of what used to be. The damage was bad but it was good because they won. They were alive.

She let her mind wonder to what could be. In another life, if the revolution didn't happen. What if he never took her out in time? What if he wasn't dying of liver failure? What if the games didn't exist, would they have met? Would she still have the happily ever after she envisioned for them? What if she did marry one of her umpteen fiancés?

She knew there was no point dwelling on what ifs. Because in this life, she was here. He did drink himself into liver failure. He did need a liver transplant. She was in fact pregnant with his child and about to have an abortion to save his life. For a moment, she let herself picture what their child would look like. In another life perhaps they would have a kid or two if they weren't two damaged people trying to survive in this cruel world.  _But in this life, they are still alive, there is still a chance for happiness._ She thought.

* * *

The procedure room was oddly dim. She sat there in a gown they got her to change into, the doctor was asking her questions which she answered without thought. They got her to lie down for an ultrasound before they proceeded with the procedure. She watched the screen knowing that this would be the first and last time she would see her baby. She took in everything she could with that little time she knew of its existence. The odd shape that formed a life within her. A press of a button and the room was filled with the sound of its heartbeat.  _One that mimicked its father's_. She thought, blinking her tears away.

"Can I have a picture of the ultrasound?" She asked softly.

"Of course." The doctor said sympathetically as she printed a copy and handed it over. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." She whispered, tearing her eyes away from the screen.

She chose not to be sedated through the procedure. She wanted to remember this when no one else did. Another child's life she was ending. Her own. She felt the needle against her skin, the metal so cold it almost burnt. She wanted to feel the pain even though half her body was numb. She could hear the sounds, the smell, the kind voice of the doctor reassuring her with her every move. And then it was over. One life ends and another continues.

She held the photo tightly in front of her as she studied it almost too carefully. She cleared her throat as she looked up at her doctor, "When can we do the transplant?"


	25. Domesticity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while since I updated. Hope you enjoy this short one. Been lacking motivation and inspiration lately. Uni has been draining my brain juice. Reviews motivates me. So if you have any prompts or ideas do leave them! x

It was a beautiful morning. The sunlight filtered through the window sills and lit up the entire kitchen. You could hear the geese honking in the background. The occasional breeze caressed his face. The garden was filled with blooming flowers. Spring was his favourite season. The world was full of hope and life.

Peeta had been in this routine with Effie for nearly a week. They had been trying to finalise the new recipes for the bakery while it was still under renovation. The rhythmic humming of the mixer filled the kitchen as they worked together to get the perfect cookie dough texture. He recited the recipe as Effie followed, tweaking the recipe a little with each batch of cookies.

They were both so engrossed in their baking that they failed to notice the light footsteps shuffling down the stairs.

"Oh god. You guys are still at it? It has been almost a week!" Haymitch said as he walked into the kitchen with a half buttoned shirt and trousers loosely hanging off his body. For his age and lack of exercise, he looked surprisingly good. "Making a ruckus every morning. I need my sleep."

"Morning, Haymitch. You are up early today." Peeta said with a smile. It was rare that he woke up before Peeta left, for the past few days they'd get through all their baking before he came down.

Effie looked over at the clock and rolled her eyes. "It's almost noon, Haymitch. How much sleep do you actually need?"

"Considering last night, I would say more." Haymitch made his way to the other side of the counter where Effie was standing and slid his arm across her waist.

"Seriously?" Effie whispered and glared at the half-dressed man standing behind her. Peeta could see the blush spreading from her cheeks down her neck.

Peeta watched quietly, trying not to think about what transpired between the couple he considered as paternal figures last night. He tried to turn his focus back to the peanut butter in his hands and attempted to measure the appropriate amount. He sneaked a few glances at the couple in front of him and stopped when he saw Haymitch's hand slowly slide from Effie's waist to cup her ass. She wriggled herself away from his grasp and mumbled something intelligible to Haymitch. He brought his attention back to the bowl of peanut butter again and decided that was enough for the recipe and handed it to Effie who was dealing with the mixer.

"What are you guys making today?" Haymitch asked curiously as he eyed the dough in Effie's hands.

"Peanut butter cookies!" Effie replied excitedly as she mixed in the peanut butter with the rest of the mixture. "I am so excited for these. They are my favourite." She said as she tried some of the cookie dough. "Mmm… they are going to be so good."

"No." She swatted Haymitch's hand away from the bowl as he tried to get some dough from the mixing bowl. "Have you even washed your hands?" Haymitch frowned with a slight pout.

"Fine." She said after glancing at him. Effie reached into the bowl and rolled a little ball of cookie dough before popping it in Haymitch's mouth.

Peeta watched the scene unfold before him. Amused at the interaction between the two of them, yet not making any comments about the rare display of affection. The way Haymitch was standing behind Effie and looking at her with so much love in his eyes. Her feeding him with a practiced move. Bickering with each other as always. It was almost like they were in their own bubble and forgot he was in the room.

"Do you want to try some too, Peeta?" Effie offered, bringing him out of his trance. Perhaps he was the one trapped in his own bubble watching them with fascination.

"Yeah sure. Thank you." He took the dough with a smile.

"How is it? Doesn't it taste good?" Effie asked, watching the both of them expectantly.

"It tastes perfect." He smiled as he started placing the dough on the baking tray.

"You taste better." Haymitch looked over at Effie and replied with a smirk, making Peeta cringe.

He just went from feeling loved to uncomfortable in a second. Trying to block out his thoughts, he picked up the baking tray and headed towards the oven. He slid the baking tray into the oven and hastily said, "I will be back later to check on the cookies."

He bolted out of their backdoor before either of them could reply. Giving the couple their space, he slowly made his way back to the house he shared with Katniss.

Barring everything inappropriate, that was what love looks like, he mused.


	26. Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am never this good at updating especially when uni is so hectic. But inspiration came and I couldn't stop writing this oneshot. I hope you enjoy it.

 

Their tributes were dead, he went to the bar and Effie was at a party. He just got back to the penthouse, almost drunk. He took one look at the clock on the wall and figured she should be back by now. He stumbled into her room, half expecting her to be in bed waiting for him in her silk dressing gown like she always does.

"Fuck! What the fuck is that?" He felt all the alcohol leave his system as he stopped dead in his tracks. Well, she was in her pink dressing gown lying on top of her blanket, her natural blond hair tied up in a bun, holding the communicator in her hands. He had no doubt she was going through her schedule for the next day, despite their dead tributes. But that thing on her face, with the pink and white patterns.

"It's a sheet mask, darling. It's all the new rage this season." Effie mumbled with the mask moving unnaturally over her skin. He kept his distance, afraid to move closer to her. The mask looked slimy and wet. Upon closer inspection, he could see it forming the shape of a rabbit with the whiskers and pink nose.

She looked like a rabbit-faced human. It was disgusting. A thought flashed through his mind. She couldn't be thinking of altering her looks to look like a rabbit would she? Because it's not all that crazy by Capitol standards. Though, it might be a little extreme for Effie. She didn't even like to dye her hair.

"What the hell is a sheet mask?" He blurted. Could this be a way of temporary altering her looks instead of the permanent alterations and surgery he had seen people do? Trust the Capitol to come up with something like that. They looked horrendous. He never understood why people would subject themselves to surgical alterations. And Effie, for the sake of fashion and trends, just might. He thought. And it made him sick. She had expressed her dissatisfaction with certain parts of her body at times while he had told her she was an idiot time and again.

"Take it off!" He almost screamed. The thought of her altering her looks terrified him. You never know how far Capitols can go with the technology they have.

"Why?" She asked, confused. She ignored his request and proceeded to pat the mask on her face. "It's a new product, redesigned from an old form of skincare. I wouldn't expect you to know about this, seeing your lack of personal care."

"Just take it off. I don't like whatever is doing to your face." He growled. He almost wanted to peel it off for her. He didn't like how it looked or what it sounds like it is doing to her face. It made him squeamish.

"No. What is wrong with you? I would have you know that this is very expensive and difficult to get hold of. Besides, I only have 3 minutes left from the whole treatment. The different colours of the mask is supposed treat different problem areas on my skin." She explained.

Problem areas? The more she explained, the more concerned he was. He walked over to the edge of her bed and reached over in an attempt to remove it. She leaned away and swatted his hand before he could do it.

"Are you crazy? Just give me a minute, I will take it off." She sighed, finally conceding and sliding off the bed. She pattered into the bathroom, leaving the door open. He could only see half of her as she leaned over the sink, not knowing what she was doing. He held his breath as he waited for her to return, worried about what she would look like after she got that mask thing off her face.

He heard the tap turn off and watched as she slid the towel from the hanger to -he assumed- dry her face. She left the towel on the counter before letting down her hair. The anxiety that came with not being able to fully see her face. He didn't even realise he was holding his breath until he saw her walk out of the bathroom looking like herself. Nothing has changed. No pink nose or whiskers protruding out her face. She was just - Effie. She was beautiful despite her adamant refusal to believe him.

"Satisfied now?" She asked as she slid under the covers next to him.

"You look…" He paused, studying her face up close. "The same."

"Thanks for reminding me how plain I look without my makeup." She said a little annoyed.

He frowned at her reply. "Same is good." He reached out to poke her cheek, making sure it was real. Her skin felt surprisingly soft.

"What do you think you are doing?" She frowned as she reached out to cup her cheek and pushed his hand away.

"Your skin is softer." He commented.

"Yeah. I wouldn't spend so much money on a useless mask would I?"

His right hand went for her cheek again and she instinctively blocked him with hers. He pushed her hand down with his left hand before proceeding to stroke her cheek with the back of his finger. Marvelling at its softness, he didn't notice as she leaned into his touch.

"Is this all you are here for tonight?" She asked with a smirk.

And the rest was history.

Perhaps he didn't mind the masks after all.


	27. Stars: Part I

_Sorry I suck at updating my stories. Many things happened since I last uploaded. I graduated, moved back home, got a temp job, etc. I have been writing this fic for a_ lil _over 6 months and I keep getting stuck on how this story should progress. I have decided to upload half of it first_ because: _1\. to motivate myself to write and 2. I think this should be long enough for another chapter. Review and perhaps I might get motivated and inspired to write more. xxx_

* * *

"Congratulations." He said softly, his eyes dropping towards her middle.

"What?" She replied slightly surprised.

"I know you are probably trying to hide it but it is kind of obvious when we see each other almost every day."

"Thank you." She faltered for a moment before giving him a small smile. She wondered how long it has been since he has noticed and kept quiet about it.

"So you found someone?"

"Sorry?"

"The father."

"Oh." The sudden realization about what he meant yet she didn't know how to reply. So she settled for "Not really." A pang of guilt hit her.

"Oh, sorry," Peeta replied.

"No. It's alright."

"You don't know who the father is?" The question left her at a loss for words.

"What kind of person do you take me for?!" She was shocked at what he was implying.

"Sorry I didn't mean..." He apologized, slightly embarrassed as his hand reached for his hair. But it didn't last long. His next thought had him straightening his back and reaching for her hand again. "He left?" A tone of protectiveness in his voice.

"It's complicated." She paused, contemplated her next words for a moment before continuing. "He doesn't want kids." She sighed.

"I don't understand how parents can bear to abandon their children." He spoke out loud, staring at the window.

"No, it's not like that. He doesn't know."

"Why?"

"Because the world has changed but he hasn't."

"You don't intend on telling him?"

"I did for a while." She hesitated. She rarely confided her fears to the children. "I kept running the scenarios through my brain. But I just couldn't get myself to do it. He doesn't love me and he shouldn't be trapped in a relationship he doesn't want to be in. So I decided against it."

"How do you know?"

"Because..." "It's complicated."

"He is probably the greatest man I've ever known. But we want different things." She smiled fondly at the thought. Reminiscing their times together. They were not all bad. There were good times too - when she felt loved. That was all she was left with. Memories of them together and a fantasy of what could've been.

"I am content with what I have now." Truly. This was as close to happiness as she could get. She beamed at him, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

"How far along are you?" He asked as they were waiting for their train to arrive.

"Almost 6 months."

Despite his jumbled memories and the days spent in prison and recovery which robbed him of his concept of time, it was not difficult for Peeta to do the math. But if he did, he didn't let up.

The sound of the approaching train brought that conversation to an end. They got up the train with Peeta carrying their bags; small considering neither of them had many things left in the Capitol after the war. The boy was always a sweetheart.

* * *

She sat there watching the world pass by in front of her eyes. It's a different world now. People were free. They were free. Years back she wouldn't imagine being in a train filled with people of different districts. Now, gone were the flamboyant Capitols in outrageous outfits and Avoxes who used to roam these trains. Of course, there was still the occasional Capitol who was unable to let go of that lifestyle. But for the most part, it was nice to see people from all over the country intermingle. It was a refreshing sight.

Peeta sat opposite her with his sketchbook propped up on his lap; sketching the views as they passed she presumed. She watched him look up to study the view outside every now and then; capturing the changes. The soft hum of the train was oddly soothing; it was just her, her thoughts and the occasional flutter from within.

She felt a pat on her shoulder and looked up to see Peeta's soft smile. "We are reaching." He said. "They just made the announcement." His sketchbook abandoned on the seat beside him. She must have fallen asleep somewhere along Five or Six because she had completely missed the scenery. She looked out the windows to see that the sandy shores of Four have been replaced by beautiful greenery. After the war, the walls along the tracks have been removed and people were allowed and able to watch the surrounding scenery flash by as they passed each district on the trains. It was a beautiful sight.

She had never visited Twelve during the autumn season. The Games were usually held during winter or spring when the district was covered in thick snow or blossoming with flowers. And the last time she was here, well, it was a different world then. So much has happened since. She kept her eyes on the view; autumn in Twelve was beautiful, the greenery littered with bits of orange and yellow.

The conductor made the announcement again as she watched the greenery thin out as they approached the station. It was not as busy as the other districts considering it was at the end of the country and much rebuilding was still in the works.

"Are you going to tell him?" Peeta asked as they got off the train.

She turned to look at him but kept quiet.

"Haymitch." He continued when she didn't answer. It was a statement, not a question.

She wanted to, truly, but there were things to think of. Things that have been stopping her for months if not years. There was a long bout of silence before she whispered, "No."

To her relief, he didn't question her answer. He just picked up their bags and made his way towards the exit.

"You love him. Real or not real?" He glanced over and asked as they walked along the newly paved street.

She fussed with her outfit and wrapped her coat tighter around herself. It wasn't a difficult question, she could answer without a doubt in a heartbeat. Her outfit was fine. She just... it wasn't something she admitted to anyone but herself.

"Real." She replied barely above a whisper. She would never lie to the kids.

She was thankful for the autumn weather. She was sporting an oversized cream-coloured top which concealed her bump so naturally. Her black skinny bottoms and ankle boots accentuated her toned legs. Her tanned coat fell slightly above her knees, giving her bump extra coverage from the sides. It was plain for Capitol tastes but she loved how she looked now.

"I know him. I worked with him for almost half my life. I was never meant to be his happily ever after." She offered.

She envied him. To have what she would never have. To have someone you love, love you back. The children were meant to be together.

She wondered perhaps in another world Haymitch would love her back. Or where he would be happy with his girl.


	28. Stars: Part II

It was only supposed to be a one shot. BUT I COULDNT STOP WRITING. OMG. So now I am expanding it to 3 chapters.

* * *

No one knew the duo would be arriving in Twelve on the crisp autumn morning except perhaps Peeta's doctor and Plutarch. Everything was very much kept under wraps from the world. They didn't need to any one to catch wind of the star crossed lovers reuniting in Twelve. They didn't even tell Katniss or Haymitch. Peeta wanted to surprise the girl and Effie... Well, it has been a while since spoke to Haymitch. The lack of effort from both sides was evident. She phoned the girl often enough to catch up and know enough about him. Though she was guilty of breaking her routine after she found out she was expecting a little over two month back.

She never had regular periods, add that along with the war and then trying to settle back down in the Capitol while dealing with Peeta's condition, the last thing on her mind was keeping track of her cycle. So that first day she went grocery shopping after getting back her Capitol apartment to grab some supplies for herself and Peeta, she passed the feminine care section only to realise she hasn't used a tampon in months. She couldn't remember the last time she needed one. Too long, even for her irregular cycle. She knew right then and there, even before taking the test.

That same night she spent half an hour in the bathroom with three positive tests on her vanity. She plopped herself down on the toilet seat and leaned her head against the cold stone. Between everything, she was too exhausted to even let herself feel or cry. That came a few days later when the realization finally hit her in full and she cried herself to sleep, not from sadness but from the pure mental exhaustion and fear of everything that has to come.

The day after she made her first appointment. She wasn't really rejecting the idea but not completely elated either. She was ignoring it until she got confirmation from her doctor. Yet she rescheduled her appointment twice before finally going in after she saw the blood stain on her underwear one afternoon. They pretty much confirmed it right away with a blood scan. They said it was normal to experience minimal spotting in her early months as long as she wasn't experiencing any pain. Her doctor asked some questions, prescribed her some vitamins and told her to come in if she experience any pain. She left the clinic in a daze. Before she knew it, it has been two weeks since she called Katniss or Haymitch. And it was harder to pick up the phone with each passing day.

That was five weeks ago. She still gave the weekly call to Katniss but it seems like Haymitch had completely vanished. She got vague updates from the girl about him turning his house into an animal farm, taking in all sorts of strays. She supposed he was trying to distract himself from the fact that alcohol production and distribution hasn't been resumed yet. But that was everything.

* * *

They hopped onto a car she booked and made their way towards the village. It was the best option to keep exposure to the minimal. She was planning to keep this under wraps as long as possible. They have been under the spotlight for so long; the boy deserved some peace and she could use some herself too. She didn't want to think about how people would react to her being there. She gave Peeta's hand a little squeeze as they slowly approached their destination. She watched as they attracted odd glances from a few passer-bys who were surprised by the lone car approaching the Victor's Village. It has probably been a long time since anyone new arrived in the village and she was thankful for the tinted glass which concealed their identities.

* * *

There was a lone figure crouched outside one of the gardens. Katniss. Effie figured. They walked briskly towards her, the boy seemingly increasing his speed with every step. The girl probably heard their steps, she spun around with such speed and agility with one hand reaching for her belt. She had no doubt that was where the girl kept her hunting knife. Katniss stopped at the sight of the two arrivals.

Before she knew it, the kids were locked in an embrace. There were some tears. From all three of them. She turned away, giving the kids their moment and her line of sight immediately brought her to Haymitch's place. No one seemed to be home. But it was like that before the war too - him passed out drunk in what seemed like a deserted house. She noticed the little differences though, a new coat of paint, some life in the garden, the little fenced area with a few geese.

"Effie?" The girl's voice soft and unsure.

She gave her a small smile before bringing her in for a tight hug.  _Oh how much she missed her!_

* * *

Few words were exchanged and the girl led them back to Peeta's old place. It didn't look much different from the last time she'd been here. Apart from the silence she supposed. Unlike Katniss's family, Peeta's were much louder. Much much rowdier. Effie always wondered what made him quiet until the first day she stepped into the Mellark household. The boy rarely spoke about his family.  _He must miss them,_  she thought.

They dropped their bags in the living room while Katniss went to fetch some clean sheets from her house. Peeta offered her the master bedroom, which used to be his parent's while he went back to his old room. She would be staying for a few weeks until Peeta was settled before heading back. She was the most familiar with Peeta's condition and they would need help understanding how to deal with Peeta if he had a particularly bad episode.  _That could also give her some opportunity to see Haymitch_.

She met the kids in the living room when Katniss came back with a basket of clean sheets. They offered to change the sheets. She figured they wanted some time alone.

"I will leave you two to it then." She gave them a knowing smile. "Call me if you need help." In case Peeta had an episode while she was away and Katniss couldn't handle him alone.

* * *

She wandered around the district alone; taking in the new sights. People were smiling more; they were smiling at her too. Perhaps they don't recognize her with her new look, she thought as she offered a small smile back. The sun was slowly setting, the horizon drenched in a mixture of pink and orange. The sky was almost void of clouds.

Down the streets of Twelve, gone were the familiar dirt paths and old houses. She stepped into a newly opened café and ordered a cup of tea. She sat by the window, committing the new Twelve to memory.

By the time she got back to the house, it was dark. The night sky in Twelve was mesmerizing as always. Stars filled the dark canvas, shimmering with every blink. This was something the Capitol never had, a part of the Districts the Capitol couldn't destroy or take away. The natural beauty of the world beyond.

Dinner was some bread Katniss brought over. She invited her to dinner at her place tomorrow night. An invitation she would never reject.

"She invited Haymitch too." Peeta said with a smile. "He doesn't know you are here yet."

* * *

She couldn't fall asleep that night. She stared out her bedroom window before deciding to head out. Sneaking out slightly past 2am, she made her way through the back of the Victor's Village relying solely on her memory to get her to the small clearing behind the forest. She had been there a few times over the years. It was quiet and it cleared her mind. Something about the night sky filled with stars, at the edge of the country with the least light pollution. Everything seemed to blend into one. The endless darkness had a life of its own.

That night, under the stars, she lets herself dream. Of a different world. Of a different life.


End file.
